THE  ROAD  TO  PROVIDENCE 


"She's  not  making  them  for  me,"  answered  the  Doctor    Page  6 


THE  ROAD 
TO  PROVIDENCE 

By  MARIA  THOMPSON  DAVIES8 


Author  of  "Miss  Selina  Luc,"   "Rose  of  Old 

Harpeth,"  etc. 


WITH  FOUR  ILLUSTRATIONS 
BY  W.  B.  KING 


A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  Niw  YORK 


COPYRIGHT  1910 
THE  BOBBS-MERRILL.  COMPANY 


TO 

MR.  AND  MRS.  EDWIN  RIPLEY  RICHARDSON 


2135329 


CONTENTS 

CHAFTIK  PA6B 

I  THE  DOCTORS  MAYBERRY,  MOTHKR  AND  SON       .  I 

II  THE  SINGER  LADY  AND  THE  BREAD-BOWL     .        .  29 

III  THE  PEONY  GIRL  AND  THE  BUHPKIN       ...  59 

IV  LOVE,  THE  CURE-ALL 86 

V  THE  LITTLE  RAVEN  AND  HER  COVERED  DISH      .  114 

VI  THE  PROVIDENCE  TAG-GANG 145 

VII  PRETTY  BETTIE'S  WEDDING  DAY     .       .       .       .173 

VIII  THE  NEST  ON  PROVIDENCE  NOB       .       .       .       .201 

IX  THE  LITTLE  HARPETH  WOMAN  OF  MANY  SORROWS    227 

X  THE  SONG  OF  THE  MASTER'S  GRAIL        .       .       .    252 


THE  ROAD  TO  PROVIDENCE 


THE 
ROAD  TO  PROVIDENCE 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  DOCTORS   MAYBERRY,   MOTHER  AND  SON 

NOW,  child,  be  sure  and  don't  mix  'em  with  a 
heavy  hand!     Lightness  is  expected  of  riz 
biscuits  and  had  oughter  be  dealt  out  to  'em  by  the 
mixer  from  the  start.     Just  this  way — " 

"Mother,  oh,  Mother,"  came  a  perturbed  hail  in 
Doctor  Mayberry's  voice  from  the  barn  door, 
"Spangles  is  off  the  nest  again — better  come  quick !" 

"Can't  you  persuade  her  some,  Tom?"  Mother 
called  back  from  the  kitchen  door  as  she  peered  anx- 
iously across  the  garden  fence  and  over  to  the  gray 
barn  where  the  Doctor  stood  holding  the  door  half 
open,  but  ready  for  a  quick  close-up  in  case  of  an 
unexpected  sally.  "My  hands  is  in  the  biscuits  and 
I  don't  want  to  come  now.  Just  try,  Tom!" 

i 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

"I  have  tried  and  I  can't  do  it !  She's  getting  the 
whole  convention  agitated.  You'd  better  come  on, 
Mother!" 

"Dearie  me,"  said  Mrs.  Mayberry,  as  she  rinsed 
her  hands  in  the  wash-pan  on  the  shelf  under  th« 
cedar  bucket,  "Tom  is  just  as  helpless  with  the  chick- 
ens at  setting  time  as  a  presiding  elder  is  at  a 
sewing  circle;  can't  use  a  needle,  too  stiff  to  jine  the 
talk  and  only  good  when  it  conies  to  the  eating, 
from  broilers  to  frying  size.  Just  go  on  and  mix 
the  biscuits  with  faith,  honey-bird,  for  I  mistrust 
I  won't  be  back  for  quite  a  spell." 

"Now  let  me  see  what  all  these  conniptions  is 
about,"  she  said  in  a  commanding  voice,  as  she 
walked  boldly  in  through  her  son's  cautiously 
widened  door  gap. 

And  a  scene  of  confusion  that  was  truly  feminine 
met  her  capable  glance.  Fuss-and-Feathers,  a  stylish 
young  spangled  Wyandotte,  was  waltzing  up  and 
down  the  floor  and  shrieking  an  appeal  in  the  direc- 
tion of  a  whole  row  of  half-barrel  nests  that 
stretched  along  the  dark  and  sequestered  side  of  the 
feed-room  floor,  upon  which  was  established  what 

2 


had  a  few  minutes  before  been  a  placid  row  of 
setting  hens.  Now  over  the  rim  of  each  nest  was 
stretched  a  black,  white,  yellow  or  gray  head,  pop- 
eyed  with  alarm  and  reproach.  They  were  emitting 
a  chorus  of  indignant  squawks,  all  save  a  large, 
motherly  old  dominick  in  the  middle  barrel  who  was 
craning  her  scaly  old  neck  far  over  toward  the 
perturbed  young  sister  and  giving  forth  a  series 
of  reassuring  and  commanding  clucks. 

"I  didn't  do  a  thing  in  the  world  to  them, 
Mother,"  said  Doctor  Tom  in  a  deprecatory  tone 
of  voice,  as  if  he  were  in  a  way  to  be  blamed  for  the 
whole  excitement.  "I  was  across  the  barn  at  the 
corn-crib  when  she  hopped  off  her  nest  and  went  on 
the  rampage.  Just  a  case  of  the  modern  feminine 
rebellion,  I  wager." 

"No  such  thing,  sir!  They  ain't  nothing  in  the 
world  the  matter  with  her  'cept  as  bad  a  case  of 
young-mother  skeer  as  I  have  ever  had  before 
amongst  all  my  hens.  Don't  you  see,  Tom,  two  of 
her  setting  have  pipped  they  shells  and  the  cheep- 
ings  of  the  little  things  have  skeered  the  poor  young 
thing  'most  to  death.  Old  Dominick  have  took  in 

3 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

the  case  and  is  trying  her  chicken-sister  best  to  com- 
fort her.  These  here  pullet  spasms  over  the  hatch- 
ing of  the  first  brood  ain't  in  no  way  unusual.  The 
way  you  have  forgot  chicken  habits  since  you  have 
growed  up  is  most  astonishing  to  me,  after  all  the 
helping  with  them  I  taught  you."  As  she  spoke, 
Mother  Mayberry  had  been  rearranging  the  deserted 
nest  with  practised  hand  and  had  tenderly  lifted  two 
feeble,  moist  little  new-borns  on  her  broad  palm  to 
show  to  the  Doctor. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  them,  Mother  ?" 
he  asked,  for  though  his  education  in  chicken  lore 
seemed  to  have  been  in  vain  he  was  none  the  less 
sympathetically  interested  in  his  mother's  practice 
of  the  hen-craft. 

"I'm  just  going  to  give  'em  to  Old  Dominick  to 
dry  out  and  warm  up  for  her  while  I  persuade  her 
back  on  the  nest.  As  she  gets  used  to  hearing  the 
Icheepings  from  under  another  hen  she'll  take  the 
next  ones  that  come  with  less  mistrust."  And  suit- 
ing her  actions  to  her  words  Mother  Mayberry 
slipped  the  two  forlorn  little  mites  under  a  warm  old 
wing  that  stretched  itself  out  with  gentleness  to 

4 


THE   DOCTORS    MAYBERRY 

receive  and  comfort  them.  Some  budding  instinct 
had  sent  the  foolish  fluff  of  stylish  feathers  cluck- 
ing at  her  skirts,  so  she  bent  down  and  with  a  gentle 
and  sympathetic  hand  lifted  the  young  inadequate 
back  on  the  nest. 

"I  really  oughter  put  on  a  cover  and  make  her 
set  on  the  next,"  she  said  doubtfully,  "but  it  do 
seem  kinder  to  teach  her  hovering  a  little  at  a  time. 
Course  all  women  things  has  got  mothering  borned 
into  'em,  but  it  comes  easier  to  some  than  to  others. 
I  always  feel  like  giving  'em  a  helping  hand  at  the 
start  off." 

"You  have  a  great  deal  of  faith  if  you  feel  sure 
of  that  universally  maternal  instinct  in  these  days, 
Mother,"  said  the  Doctor  with  a  teasing  smile  as  he 
handed  her  a  quart  cup  of  oats  from  the  bin. 

"Oh,  I  know  what  you're  talking  about,"  an- 
swered Mother,  as  she  scattered  a  little  grain  in 
front  of  each  nest  and  prepared  to  leave  in  peace 
and  quiet  the  brooding  mothers.  "It's  this  woman's 
rights  and  wrongs  question.  I've  been  so  busy  doc- 
toring Providence  Road  pains  and  trying  to  make 
a  good,  proper  husband  outen  you  for  some  nice  girl, 

5 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

what  some  other  woman  have  been  putting  licks  on 
to  get  ready  for  you,  that  I've  been  too  pushed  to 
think  about  the  wrongs  being  did  to  me.  But  not 
knowing  any  more  about  it  than  I  do,  I  think  this 
woman's  rumpus  all  sounds  kinder  like  a  hen 
scratching  around  in  unlikely  and  contrary  corners 
for  the  bread  of  life,  when  she  knows  they  is  plenty 
of  crumbs  at  the  kitchen  door  to  be  et  up.  But  if 
you're  going  to  ride  over  to  Flat  Rock  this  evening 
you'd  better  go  on  and  get  back  in  time  for  some 
riz  biscuits  as  Elinory  is  a-making  for  you  this 
blessed  minute." 

"She's  not  making  them  for  me,"  answered  the 
young  Doctor  with  the  color  rising  under  his  clear, 
tanned  skin  up  to  his  very  forelock.  As  he  spoke 
he  busied  himself  with  bridling  his  restless  young 
mare. 

"Of  course  she  is,"  answered  his  mother  se- 
'renely.  "Women  don't  take  no  interest  in  cooking 
unless  they's  a  man  to  eat  the  fixings.  Left  to 
herself  she'd  eat  store  bread  and  cheese  with  her 
head  outen  the  window  for  the  birds  to  clean  up 
the  crumbs.  Stop  by  and  ask  after  Mis'  Bostick 

6 


THE    DOCTORS    MAYBERRY 

and  the  Deacon.  And  if  you  bring  me  a  little  candy 
from  the  store  with  the  letters,  maybe  I'll  eat  it  to 
please  you.  Now  be  a-going  so  as  to  be  a-coming 
the  sooner."  With  which  admonition  Mother  took 
her  departure  down  the  garden  path. 

She  was  tall  and  broad,  was  Mother  Mayberry, 
and  in  her  walk  was  left  much  of  the  lissome  strength 
of  her  girlhood  to  lighten  the  matronly  dignity  of 
her  carriage.  Her  stiffly  starched,  gray-print  skirts 
swept  against  a  budding  border  of  jonquils  and  the 
spring  breezes  floated  an  end  of  her  white  lawn  tie 
as  a  sort  of  challenge  to  a  young  cherry  tree,  that 
was  trying  to  snow  out  under  the  influence  of  the 
warm  sun.  Her  son  smiled  as  he  saw  her  stoop 
to  lift  a  feeble,  over-early  hop  toad  back  under 
the  safety  of  the  jonquil  leaves,  out  of  sight  of  a 
possible  savage  rooster.  He  knew  what  expression 
lay  in  her  soft  gray  eyes  that  brooded  under  her 
wide,  placid  brow,  upon  which  fell  abundant  and 
often  riotous  silver  water-waves.  His  own  eyes  were 
very  like  them  and  softened  as  he  looked  at  her, 
while  a  masculine  version  of  one  of  her  quick 
dimples  quirked  at  the  corner  of  his  clean-cut  mouth. 

7 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

"The  bread  of  life — she's  found  it,"  he  said  to 
himself  musingly  as  he  slipped  the  last  buckle  in 
his  bridle  tight. 

"Eliriory,"  called  Mother  Mayberry  from  die 
kitchen  steps,  "come  out  here  and  sense  the  spring. 
Everywhere  you  look  they  is  some  young  thing 
a-peeping  up  or  a-reaching  out  or  a-running  over 
or  wobbling  or  bleating  or  calling.  Looks  like  the 
whole  world  have  done  broke  out  in  blooms  and 
babies." 

"I  can't — I  wish  I  could,"  came  an  answer  in  a 
low,  beautiful  voice  with  a  queer,  husky  note.  "It's 
all  sticking  to  my  hands,  flour  and  everything,  and 
I  don't  know  what  to  do!" 

"Dearie  me,  you've  put  in  the  milk  a  little  too 
liberal!  Wait  until  I  sift  on  a  mite  more  flour. 
Now  rub  it  in  light!  See,  it's  all  right,  and  most 
beautiful  dough.  Don't  be  discouraged,  for  riz 
biscuits  is  most  the  top  test  of  cooking.  Keep  re- 
membering back  to  those  cup  custards  you  made 
yesterday,  what  Tom  Mayberry  ate  three  of  for  sup- 
per and  then  tried  to  sneak  one  outen  the  milk- 
house  to  eat  before  he  went  to  bed." 

8 


THE    DOCTORS    MAYBERRY 

"Oh,  did  he? "asked  Miss  Wingate  with  delight 
shining  in  her  dark  eyes  and  a  beautiful  pink  rising 
up  in  her  pale  cheeks.  "I  wish  I  could  do  some- 
thing to  please  him  and  make  him  feel  how — how — 
grateful  I  am — for  the  hope  he's  given  me.  I  was 
so  hopeless  and  unhappy — and  desperate  when  I 
came.  But  I  believe  my  voice  is  coming  back! 
Every  day  it's  stronger  and  you  are  so  good  to  me 
and  make  me  so  happy  that  I'm  not  afraid  any 
more.  You  give  me  faith  to  hope — as  well  as  to 
mix  biscuits."  And  a  pearly  tear  splashed  on  the 
rolling-pin. 

"Yes,  put  your  trust  in  the  Heavenly  Father, 
child,  and  some  in  Tom  Mayberry.  Before  you  know 
it  you'll  be  singing  like  the  birds  out  in  the  trees ;  but 
I  can't  let  myself  think  about  the  time's  a-coming  for 
you  to  fly  away  to  the  other  people's  trees  to  sing. 
When  Tom  told  me  about  Doctor  Stein's  wanting  to 
send  a  great  big  singer  lady,  what  had  lost  her  voice, 
down  here  to  see  if  he  couldn't  cure  her  like  he  did 
that  preacher  man  and  the  politics  speaker,  I  was 
skeered  for  both  him  and  me,  for  I  knew  things  was 
kinder  simple  with  us  here  and  I  was  afraid  I 

9 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

couldn't  make  you  happy  and  comfortable.  But 
then  I  remembered  Doctor  Stein  had  stayed  'most 
two  weeks  when  he  came  South  with  Tom  for  a  visit 
and  said  he  had  tacked  ten  years  on  to  the  end  of  his 
life  by  just  them  few  days  of  Providence  junketings 
and  company  feedings,  so  I  made  up  my  mind 
not  to  be  proud  none  and  to  say  for  you  to  come 
on.  I've  got  faith  in  my  boy's  doctoring  same  as 
them  New  York  folks  has,  and  I  wanted  him  to  try 
to  cure  you.  Then  I  knew  you  didn't  have  no 
mother  to  pet  up  the  sick  throat  none.  A  little  con- 
soling comfort  is  a  good  dose  to  start  healing  any 
kind  of  trouble  with.  I  knew  I  had  plenty  of  that 
in  my  heart  to  prescribe  out  to  help  along  with  your 
case;  so  here  you  are  not  three  weeks  with  us, 
a-mixing  riz  biscuits  for  Tom's  supper  and  like  to 
coax  the  heart  outen  both  of  us.  I  told  him —  Dearie 
me,  somebody's  calling  at  the  front  gate !" 

"Mis'  Mayberry!  Oh,  Mis'  Mayberry!"  came  a 
high,  quavering  old  voice  from  around  the  corner 
of  the  house,  and  Squire  Tutt  hove  in  sight.  He 
was  panting  for  breath  and  trembling  with  rage  as 
he  ascended  the  steps  and  stood  in  the  kitchen  door. 

10 


THE    DOCTORS    MAYBERRY 

Mother  hastened  to  bring  him  a  chair  into  which 
he  wheezingly  subsided. 

"Why,  Squire,"  she  questioned  anxiously,  "have 
anything  happened?  Is  Mis'  Tutt  tooken  with 
lumbago  again?" 

"No!"  exploded  the  Squire,  "she's  well — always 
is!  I'm  the  only  really  sick  folks  in  Providence, 
though  I  don't  git  no  respect  for  it.  In  pain  all  the 
time  and  no  respect — no  respect!" 

"Now,  Squire,  everybody  in  Providence  have  got 
sympathy  for  your  tisic,  and  just  yesterday  Mis' 
Pike  was  a-asking  me — " 

"Tisic!  I  ain't  talking  about  tisic  now!  It's 
this  pain  in  my  stomick  that  that  young  limb  of  satan 
of  your'n  insulted  me  about  not  a  hour  ago.  Me 
a-writhing  in  tormint  with  nothing  less'n  a  cancer 
— insulted  me!"  As  the  Squire  projected  his  re- 
mark toward  Mother  Mayberry  he  bent  double  and 
peered  expectantly  up  into  her  sympathetic  face. 

"Why,  what  did  he  do,  Squire?"  demanded 
Mother,  with  a  glance  at  Miss  Wingate,  who  still 
stood  at  the  biscuit  block  cutting  out  her  dough.  She 
regarded  the  old  man  with  alarmed  wonder. 

ii 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

"Told  me  to  drink  two  cups  of  hot  water  and 
lie  down  a  hour — me  in  tormint!"  The  Squire 
fairly  spit  his  complaint  into  the  air. 

"Dearie  me,  Tom  had  oughter  known  better  than 
that  about  one  of  your  spells,"  said  Mother.  "Why, 
I've  been  a-curing  them  for  years  for  you  myself 
with  nothing  more'n  a  little  drop  of  spirits,  red 
pepper  and  mint.  He  had  oughter  told  you  to  take 
that  instead  of  hot  water.  I'm  sorry — " 

"Oughter  told  me  to  take  spirits — told  me  to  take 
spirits!  Don't  you  know,  Mis'  Mayberry,  a  man 
with  a  sanctified  wife  can't  take  no  spirits;  they 
must  be  gave  to  him  by  somebody  not  a  member  of 
the  family.  Me  a-suffering  tormints — two  cups  of 
hot  water — tormints,  tormints!" 

The  old  man's  voice  rose  to  a  perfect  wail,  but 
came  down  a  note  or  two  as  Mother  hastily  reached 
in  the  press  and  drew  out  a  tall,  old  demijohn  and 
poured  a  liberal  dose  of  the  desired  medicine  into 
a  glass.  She  added  a  dash  of  red  pepper  and  a  few 
drops  of  peppermint.  This  treatment  of  the  Squire's 
dram  in  Mother's  estimation  turned  a  sinful  bever- 
age into  a  useful  medicine  and  served  to  soothe  her 

12 


conscience  while  it  disturbed  the  Squire's  apprecia- 
tion of  her  treatment  not  at  all.  He  swallowed  the 
fiery  dose  without  as  much  as  the  blink  of  an  eyelid 
and  on  the  instant  subsided  into  comfortable  com- 
placency. 

"Please  forgive  Tom  for  not  having  more  gump- 
tion, Squire,  and  next  time  you're  took  come  right 
over  to  me  same  as  usual.  Course  I  know  all  the 
neighbors  feel  as  how  Tom  is  young  and  have  just 
hung  out  his  shingle  here,  and  I  ain't  expectin'  of 
'em  to  have  no  confidence  in  him.  I  think  it  my  duty 
to  just  go  on  with  my  usual  doctoring  of  my  friends. 
I  hope  you  won't  hold  this  mistake  against  Tom." 

"Well,"  said  the  Squire  in  a  mollified  tone  of 
voice,  "I  won't  say  no  more,  but  you  must  tell 
him  to  stop  fooling  with  these  here  Providence 
people.  Stopped  Ezra  Pike's  wife  feeding  her  baby 
on  pot-liquor  and  give  it  biled  milk  watered  with 
lime  juice.  It'll  die— it'll  die !" 

"Oh  no,  Squire,  it's  a-getting  well — jest  as  peart 
as  can  be,"  Mother  said  in  a  mollifying  tone  of 
voice. 

"It'll  die — it'll  die!   Cut  one  er  the  lights  outen 

13 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

Sam  Mosbey's  side — called  it  a  new  fangled  impen- 
dix  name — but  he'll  die — he'll  die !" 

"Sam's  a-working  out  there  on  the  barn  roof 
right  this  minute,  Squire,  good  and  alive,"  said 
Mother  Mayberry  with  a  good-humored  smile, 
while  Miss  Wingate  cast  a  restrained  though  indig- 
nant glance  at  the  doubting  old  magistrate. 

"And  old  Deacon  Bostick  drinking  cow-hot  milk 
and  sucking  raw  eggs!  He  looks  like  a  mixed  calf 
and  shanghai  rooster!  So  old  he'd  oughter  die — 
and  he'll  do  it!  Hot  water  and  me  in  tormint! 
Hot  water  on  his  middle  in  a  rubber  bag  and  nothing 
inside  er  him !  He'll  die— he'll  die !" 

"Oh  no,  Squire,  the  good  Lord  have  gave  Deacon 
Bostick  back  to  us  from  the  edge  of  the  grave ;  Tom 
a-working  day  and  night  but  under  His  guidance. 
He  have  gained  ten  pounds  and  walks  everywhere. 
It  were  low  typhus,  six  weeks  running,  too!  I'm 
glad  it  were  gave  to  me  to  see  my  son  bring  back 
a  saint  to  earth  from  the  gates  themselves.  Have 
you  been  by  to  see  him?" 

"Yes,"  answered  the  Squire  as  he  rose  much 
more  briskly  than  he  had  seated  himself,  and  pre- 
14 


THE   DOCTORS    MAYBERRY 

pared  to  take  his  departure.  "Yes,  and  it  was  you 
a-nussing  of  him  that  did  it — muster  slipped  him 
calimile — but  I  ain't  a-disputing!  Play  actor,  ain't 
you,  girl  ?"  he  demanded  as  he  paused  on  his  way  out 
of  the  door  and  peered  over  at  Miss  Wingate  with 
his  beetling,  suspicious  eyes. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  singer  lady  as  she  went  on 
putting  her  biscuit  into  the  pan.  If  her  culinary 
manceuvers  were  slow  they  were  at  least  sure  and 
the  "riz"  biscuits  looked  promising. 

"Dearie  me,"  said  Mother  as  she  returned  from 
guiding  her  guest  down  the  front  walk  and  into 
the  shaded  Road,  "it  do  seem  that  Squire  Tutt  gets 
more  rantankerous  every  day.  Poor  Mis'  Tutt  is 
just  wore  out  with  contriving  with  him.  It's  a 
wonder  she  feels  like  she  have  got  any  ease  at  all, 
much  less  a  second  blessing.  Now  I  must  turn  to 
and  make  a  dish  of  baked  chicken  hash  for  supper 
to  be  et  with  them  feather  biscuits  of  your'n.  I 
want  to  compliment  them  by  the  company  of  a  extra 
nice  dish.  If  they  come  out  the  oven  in  time  I  want 
to  ask  Sam  Mosbey  to  stop  in  and  get  some,  with  a 
little  quince  preserves.  He  brought  his  dinner  in 

IS 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

a  bucket,  which  troubled  me,  for  who's  got  foot  on 
my  land,  two  or  four,  I  likes  to  feed  myself.  I  ex- 
pected he  was  some  mortified  at  your  being  here. 
He's  kinder  shy  like  in  the  noticing  of  girls." 

"That  seems  to  be  a  failing  with  the  Providence 
young — with  Providence  people,"  ventured  Miss 
Wingate  with  ambiguity. 

"Oh,  country  boys  is  all  alike,"  answered  Mother 
comfortingly,  only  in  a  measure  taking  in  the  tenta- 
tive observation.  "They're  all  kinder  co'ting  tongue- 
tied.  They  have  to  be  eased  along  attentive,  all 
'cept  Buck  Peavey,  who'd  like  to  eat  Pattie  up  same 
as  a  cannibal,  I'm  thinking,  and  don't  mind  who 
knows  it.  Now  the  supper  is  all  on  the  simmer  and 
can  be  got  ready  in  no  time.  Let's  me  and  you 
walk  down  to  the  front  gate  and  watch  for  Tom  to 
come  around  the  Nob  from  Flat  Rock  and  then 
we  can  run  in  the  biscuits.  Maybe  we'll  hear  some 
news;  I  haven't  hardly  seen  any  folks  to-day  and  I 
mistrust  some  mischief  are  a-brewing  somewhere." 

And  Mother  Mayberry's  well  trained  intuitions 
must  have  been  in  unusually  good  working  order, 
for  she  met  her  expected  complications  at  the 

16 


THE   DOCTORS    MAYBERRY 

very  front  gate.  She  was  just  turning  to  point  out 
a  promise  of  an  unusually  large  crop  of  snowballs 
on  the  old  shrub  by  the  gate-post  when  a  subdued 
sniffling  made  itself  heard  and  caused  her  to  con- 
centrate her  attention  on  the  house  opposite  across 
the  Road.  And  a  sympathy  stirring  scene  met  her 
eyes.  Perched  along  the  fence  were  all  five  of  the 
little  Pikes  clinging  to  the  top  board  in  forlorn  de- 
spondency. On  the  edge  of  the  porch  sat  Mr.  Pike 
in  his  shirt  sleeves  with  his  pipe  in  one  hand  and 
the  Teether  Pike  balanced  on  his  knee.  His  expres- 
sion matched  that  of  the  children  in  the  matter  of 
gloom,  and  like  them  he  glanced  apprehensively 
toward  the  door  as  if  expecting  Calamity  to  issue 
from  his  very  hearthstone. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter?"  demanded  Mother  as 
she  hurried  to  the  edge  of  the  sidewalk  followed  by 
the  singer  lady,  whose  acquaintance  with  the  young 
Pikes  had  long  before  ripened  to  the  stage  of  inti- 
mate friendship.  At  the  sight  of  her  sympathetic 
face,  Eliza,  the  first  Pike,  slipped  to  the  ground  and 
buried  her  head  in  her  new  but  valued  friend's 
dainty  muslin  skirt.  Bud,  the  next  rung  of  the  stair 

17 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

steps  licked  out  his  tongue  to  dispose  of  a  mortify- 
ing tear  and  little  Susie  sobbed  outright.  At  this 
juncture,  just  as  Mother  was  about  to  demand 
again  an  explanation  of  such  united  woe,  Mrs.  Pike 
came  to  the  door,  and  a  large  spoon  and  a  bottle 
full  of  amber,  liquid  grease  made  further  inquiry 
unnecessary. 

"Sakes,  Mis'  Mayberry,  I  certainly  am  glad  you 
have  came  over  to  back  me  up  in  getting  down  these 
doses  of  oil.  Ez,"  with  an  indignant  and  contempt- 
uous glance  at  her  sullen  husband,  "don't  want  me  to 
give  it  to  'em.  He'd  rather  they'd  up  and  die  than 
to  stand  the  ruckus,  but  I  ain't  a-going  to  let  my  own 
children  perish  for  a  few  cherry  seeds  with  a  bottle 
of  oil  in  the  house  and  Doctor  Tom  Mayberry's  pre- 
scription to  give  'em  a  spoonful  all  around."  Mrs. 
Pike  was  short  and  stout,  but  with  a  martial  and  de- 
termined eye,  and  as  she  spoke  she  began  to  measure 
out  a  first  dose  with  her  glance  fixed  on  young  Bud, 
who  turned  white  around  his  little  mouth  and  clung 
to  the  fence.  Susie's  sobs  rose  to  a  wail  and  Eliza 
shuddered  in  Miss  Wingate's  skirt. 

"Wait  a  minute,  Mis'  Pike,"  said  Mother  hur- 
18 


THE   DOCTORS   MAYBERRY 

riedly,  "are  you  sure  they  have  et  cherry  seeds? 
Cherries  aint  ripe  yet,  and — " 

"We  didn't — we  didn't !"  came  in  a  perfect  chorus 
of  wails  from  the  little  fence  birds. 

"Of  course  they  did,  Mis'  Mayberry!"  exclaimed 
,  their  mother  relentlessly.  "It  was  two  jars  of  cherry 
preserves  that  Prissy  put  up  and  clean  forgot  to 
seed  'fore  she  biled  'em,  and  the  children  done  took 
and  et  'em  on  the  sly.  Now  they're  going  to  suffer 
for  it." 

"We  all  spitted  the  seeds  out,  and  we  was  so 
hungry,  too !"  Eliza  took  courage  to  sob  from  Miss 
Wingate's  skirt.  Bud  managed  to  echo  her  state- 
ment, while  Susie  and  the  two  little  boys  gave  con- 
firmation from  their  wide-open,  terror-stricken  eyes. 

"Well,  now,  maybe  they  did,  Mis'  Pike,"  said 
Mother,  coming  near  to  argue  the  question.  Her 
hand  rested  sustainingly  on  one  of  the  brave  young 
Bud's  knees  which  jutted  out  from  the  fence. 

"Can't  trust  'em,  Mis'  Mayberry,  fer  if  they'll 
steal  they'll  lie,"  said  Mrs.  Pike  in  a  voice  tinged 
with  the  deepest  melancholy  for  the  fallen  estate  of 
her  family.  "They'll  have  to  suffer  for  both  sins 

19 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

whether  they  did  or  didn't,"  and  again  the  bottle 
was  poised. 

"Now  hold  on,  Mis'  Pike,"  again  exclaimed 
Mother  Mayberry  as  her  face  illumined  with  a 
bright  smile.  "If  they  thro  wed  away  the  cherry 
pits  they  must  be  where  they  throwed  'em  and  they 
can  go  find  'em  to  prove  they  character.  They  ain't 
nothing  fairer  than  that.  Where  did  you  eat  the 
preserves,  children?"  she  asked,  but  there  was  a  wild 
rush  around  the  corner  of  the  house  before  her 
question  was  answered. 

"Now,"  exclaimed  the  astonished  mother,  "I 
never  thought  of  that  and  if  they  thought  to  spit 
out  one  stone  they  did  the  balance.  But  Doctor  Tom 
was  so  kind  to  tell  me  about  the  oil  and  I  paid  fifteen 
cents  down  at  the  store  for  it,  that  I'm  a  mind  to 
give  it  to  'em  anyway." 

"I'll  be  blamed  if  you  do,"  ejaculated  her  indig- 
nant husband  as  he  shouldered  Teether  and  strode 
into  the  house,  unable  longer  to  restrain  his  rage. 

"Ain't  that  just  like  him!"  said  his  wife  in  a  re- 
signed voice.  "And  I  was  just  going  to  try  to  make 
him  take  this  spoonful  I've  poured  out.  It  won't 

20 


THE   DOCTORS    MAYBERRY 

hurt  him  none  and  it's  a  pity  to  pour  it  back,  it 
wastes  so.  Do  either  of  you  all  need  it?"  she  asked 
hospitably. 

Miss  Wingate  was  dissenting  with  an  echo  of 
Eliza's  shudder  and  Mother  Mayberry  with  a  laugh, 
when  the  reprieved  criminals  raced  back  around  the 
house,  each  dirty  little  fist  inclosing  a  reasonable 
number  of  grubby  cherry  stones. 

"Well,"  assented  their  mother  reluctantly,  "I'll 
let  you  off  this  time,  but  don't  any  of  you  never 
take  nothing  to  eat  again  without  asking,  and  I'm 
a-going  to  punish  you  by  making  you  every  one 
wash  your  feet  in  cold  water  and  go  to  bed.  Now 
mind  me  and  all  stand  to  onct  in  the  tub  by  the 
pump  and  tell  your  Paw  I  say  not  to  touch  that 
kettle  of  hot  water.  I  don't  want  you  to  have  a 
drop.  Go  right  on  and  do  as  I  say." 

The  threatened  punishment  had  been  too  great 
for  the  youngsters  to  mind  this  lesser  and  accus- 
tomed penalty,  so  they  retired  with  cheerfulness  and 
spirits  and  in  a  few  seconds  a  chorus  of  squeals  and 
splashes  came  from  the  back  yard. 

After  an  exchange  of  friendly  good-bys  Mrs. 

21 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

Pike  entered  her  front  door  and  Mother  and  the 
singer  lady  returned  to  their  own  front  gate. 

"Dearie  me,"  said  Mother  in  a  tone  of  positive 
discouragement,  "I  don't  know  what  I  will  do  if 
I  have  to  undo  another  one  of  Tom  Mayberry's 
prescriptions  to-day.  But  you  couldn't  expect  a  man 
to  untangle  a  children  quirk  like  that;  and  oil 
woulder  been  the  thing  for  the  cherry  stones  in 
children's  stomachs,  but  not  for  ones  throwed  on 
the  back  walk.  I  hope  the  Squire  won't  hear  about 
it,"  she  added  with  a  laugh. 

"I  think,"  said  Miss  Wingate  with  her  dark  eyes 
fixed  on  Mother's  face  with  positive  awe,  "I  think 
you  are  wonderful  with  everybody.  You  know  just 
what  to  do  for  them,  and  what  to  say  to  them 
and—" 

"Well,"  interrupted  Mother  with  a  laugh,  "it  are 
gave  to  some  women  to  be  called  on  the  Lord's  ease 
mission,  and  I  reckon  I'm  of  that  band.  Don't  you 
know  I'm  the  daughter  of  a  doctor,  and  the  wife  of 
a  doctor  and  the  mother  of  one  as  good  as  either 
of  the  other  two?  I  can't  remember  the  time  when 
I  didn't  project  with  the  healing  of  ailments.  When 

22 


THE   DOCTORS    MAYBERRY 

I  married  Doctor  Mayberry  and  come  down  over  the 
Ridge  from  Warren  County  with  him,  he  had  his 
joke  with  me  about  my  herb-basket  and  a-setting  up 
opposition  to  him.  It's  in  our  blood.  My  own 
cousin  Seliny  Lue  Lovell  down  at  the  Bluff  follows 
the  calling  just  the  same  as  I  do.  I  say  the  Lord 
were  good  to  me  to  give  me  the  love  of  it  and  a 
father  and  a  husband  and  now  a  son  to  practise 
with." 

"The  Doctors  Mayberry,  Mother  and  Son,  how 
interesting  that  sounds,  Mrs.  Mayberry,"  exclaimed 
Miss  Wingate  with  a  delightful  laugh.  "And  no 
wonder  Doctor  Mayberry  is  so  gifted  that  he  gets 
National  commissions  to  study  Pellagra  and — and 
has  a  troublesome  singer  lady  sent  all  the  way  from 
New  York  to  patch  up." 

"Yes,  it  do  look  like  that  Tom  Mayberry  gets  in 
a  good  chanct  everywhere  he  goes.  Some  folks 
picks  a  friend  offen  every  bush  they  passes  and 
Tom's  one.  He  was  honored  considerable  in  New 
York  and  then  sent  over  to  Berlin,  Europe,  and  be- 
yont  to  study  up  about  people's  skins.  And  then 
here  he  comes  back,  sent  by  the  Government  right 

23 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

down  to  Flat  Rock,  on  the  other  side  of  Providence 
Nob,  to  study  out  about  that  curious  corn  disease 
they  calls  Pellagra,  what  I  don't  think  is  a  thing  in 
the  world  but  itch  and  can  be  cured  by  a  little  sul- 
phur and  hog  lard.  But  I'm  blessing  the  chanct  that 
brought  him  back  to  me,  even  if  I  know  it  are  just 
for  a  spell.  And,  too,  he  oughter  be  happy  to  have 
brung  his  mother  such  a  song  bird  as  you.  I'm 
so  used  to  you  and  your  helping  me  with  Cindy 
away  to  Springfield,  that  I  don't  see  how  I  ever  got 
along  without  you  or  ever  will."  As  she  spoke, 
Mother  Mayberry  smiled  delightedly  at  the  singer 
girl  and  drew  her  closer.  Mother's  voice  at  most 
times  was  a  delicious  mixture  of  banter  and  caress. 

"Perhaps  I'll  stay  always,"  said  the  singer  lady 
as  she  drew  close  against  the  gray  print  shoulder. 
"When  I  look  around  me  I  feel  as  if  I  had  awakened 
in  a  beautiful  world  with  no  more  dirty,  smoky 
cities  that  hurt  my  throat,  no  more  hot,  lighted  the- 
aters, no  noises,  and  everything  is  just  a  great  big 
bouquet  of  soft  smells  and  colors." 

As  she  spoke,  Elinor  Wingate,  who  was  just  a 
tired  girl  in  the  circle  of  Mother  Mayberry's  strong 

24 


THE   DOCTORS    MAYBERRY 

arm,  let  her  great  dark  eyes  wander  off  across  the 
meadow  to  where  a  dim  rim  of  Harpeth  Hills 
seemed  to  close  m  the  valley.  Her  glance  returned  to 
the  low,  wing-spreading,  brick  farm-house,  which, 
vine-covered,  lilac-hedged  and  maple-shaded,  seemed 
to  nestle  against  the  breast  of  Providence  Nob,  at 
whose  foot  clustered  the  little  settlement  of  Provi- 
dence and  around  whose  side  ran  the  old  wilder- 
ness trail  called  Providence  Road.  And  her  face 
was  soft  with  a  light  of  utter  contentment,  for  un- 
der that  low-gabled  roof  she  was  finding  strength 
to  hope  for  the  recovery  of  her  lost  treasure,  with- 
out which  life  would  seem  a  void.  Then  for  a 
moment  she  looked  down  the  village  Road,  across 
which  the  trees  were  casting  long  afternoon  shad- 
ows and  along  which  was  flowing  the  tide  of  late 
afternoon  social  life.  Women  hung  over  the  front 
gates  to  greet  men  in  from  the  fields  or  from  down 
the  Road,  girls  laughed  and  chaffed  one  another  or 
the  blushing  country  boys,  and  the  children  played 
tag  and  hop-scotch  back  and  forth  along  the  way. 

"It's  all  lovely,"  she  said  again  with  a  contented 
little  sigh.    When  she  spoke  softly  there  was  not  a 

25 


THE  ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

trace  of  the  burr  in  her  voice  and  it  was  as  sweet 
as  a  dove  note. 

"Days  like  these  we  had  oughter  take  the  world 
as  a  new  gift  from  God,"  said  Mother  musingly. 
"It  were  a  day  like  this  I  come  with  Doctor  May- 
berry  along  the  Road  to  Providence  to  live,  and 
stopped  right  at  this  gate  under  this  very  maple  tree, 
thirty-five  years  ago ;  and  thirty  of  'em  have  I  lived 
lonesome  without  him.  I  had  a  baby  at  my  breast 
and  Tom  by  my  knee  when  he  went  away  from  us, 
and  I  know  now  it  was  the  call  laid  on  me  to  take  up 
his  work  that  saved  me.  When  I  got  back  from  the 
funeral  and  had  laid  the  baby  on  the  bed  Mis'  Jim 
Petway  come  a-running  up  the  road  crying  that  El- 
len, her  youngest  child,  were  a-choking  to  death  with 
croup.  I  never  had  a  thought  but  to  take  his  saddle- 
bags and  follow  her,  and  somehow  the  good  Lord 
guided  my  hand  amongst  his  medicines,  and  with 
what  I  had  learned  from  him  and  Pa  I  fought  a 
good  fight  and  saved  the  little  thing's  life,  though  it 
took  the  night  to  do  it.  And  in  one  of  them  dark 
hours  a  sister-to-woman  sense  was  born  in  me  what 
I  ain't  never  lost.  A  neighbor  took  Tom  and  they 

26 


THE   DOCTORS   MAYBERRY 

brought  my  baby  to  me  and  I  stayed  by  Mis'  Petway 
until  they  weren't  no  more  danger.  Next  day  it  were 
Squire  Tutt's  first  wife  tooken  down  with  the  fever 
and  not  the  week  passed  before  that  very  Sam 
Mosbey  were  borned.  We  was  too  poor  to  have 
a  doctor  come  and  live  here  and  they  was 
a  doctor  over  to  Springfield  took  up  my  hus- 
band's county  practice,  so  I  jest  naturally  had 
to  do  the  healing  myself,  only  a-sending  for  him 
in  the  worst  cases.  They  was  a  heap  of  teethers 
that  summer  and  it  kept  me  busy  looking  after  'em. 
I  expect  I  made  mistakes  but  I  kept  up  me  and  the 
patients'  courage  by  sympathizing  and  heartening. 
It  didn't  cost  nobody  nothing  and  we  wasn't  so 
prosperous  then  that  it  wasn't  a  help  for  me  to  do 
the  doctoring  when  I  could,  and  I  mostly  were  able. 
I  were  glad  of  the  work  and  did  it  with  a  thankful 
mind;  not  as  they  wasn't  times  when  I  felt  sick  at 
heart,  and  in  danger  of  questioning  why,  but  I  tried 
to  steady  myself  with  prayer  until  I  could  find  the 
Everlasting  Arm  to  lean  on  that  is  always  held  out 
to  the  widow  and  the  fatherless.  And  so  a-leaning  I 
have  got  me  and  Tom  Mayberry  along  until  now." 

27 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

"And  the  whole  rest  of  the  world  leaning  on  you," 
said  the  lovely  lady  as  she  drew  nearer  and  caught 
Mother  Mayberry's  strong  hand  in  her  own  slender 
fingers. 

"Well,"  answered  Mother,  as  she  shaded  her  eyes 
with  her  other  hand  to  look  far  up  the  Road 
toward  the  Ridge  over  which  they  were  waiting 
for  the  Doctor's  horse  to  appear,  "looks  like  often 
hands  a-reaching  out  for  help  gives  strength  before 
they  takes  any,  and  a  little  hope  planted  in  another 
body's  garden  is  apt  to  fly  a  seed  and  sprout  in  your 
own  patch.  There  he  is — let's  hurry  in  the  bis- 
cuits !" 


28 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   SINGER   LADY  AND  THE   BREAD-BOWL 

WELL,  I  don't  know  as  I'd  like  to  have  her 
messing  around  my  kitchen  and  house,  a 
stranger  and  a  curious  one  at  that.  But  you  always 
was  kinder  soft,  Mis'  Mayberry,"  said  Mrs.  Peavey 
as  she  glanced  with  provoked  remonstrance  at 
Mother  Mayberry,  who  went  calmly  on  attending  to 
the  needs  of  a  fresh  hatching  of  young  chickens. 
Mrs.  Peavey  lived  next  door  to  the  Doctor's  house 
and  the  stone  wall  that  separated  the  two  families 
was  not  in  any  way  a  barrier  to  her  frequent  neigh- 
borly and  critical  visitations.  She  was  meager  of 
stature  and  soul,  and  the  victim  of  a  devouring  fire 
of  curiosity  which  literally  licked  up  the  fagots  of 
human  events  that  came  in  her  way.  She  was  the 
fly  that  kicked  perpetually  in  Mother  Mayberry's 
cruse  of  placid  ointment,  but  received  as  full  a  mead 
of  that  balm  of  friendship  as  any  woman  on  the 
Road. 

29 


THE  ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

"Why,  she  ain't  a  mite  of  trouble,  but  just  a 
pleasure,  Hettie  Ann,"  answered  Mother  with  mild 
remonstrance  in  her  tone.  "I  expected  to  have  a 
good  bit  of  worry  with  her,  having  no  cook  in  my 
kitchen,  'count  of  waiting  for  Cindy  to  get  well  and 
come  back  to  me  and  nobody  easy  to  pick  up  to  do 
the  work,  but  she  hadn't  been  here  a  week  before 
she  was  reaching  out  and  learning  house  jobs.  I 
think  it  takes  her  mind  offen  her  troubles  and  I 
can't  say  her  no  if  it  do  help  her,  not  that  I  want  to, 
for  she's  a  real  comfort." 

"Well,  if  it  was  me  I  couldn't  take  no  comfort  in 
a  play-acting  girl.  I'd  feel  like  locking  up  what 
teaspoons  I  had  and  a-counting  over  everything  in 
my  house  every  day.  It's  just  like  you,  Mis'  May- 
berry,  to  take  her  in.  And  I  can't  sense  the  why  of 
you're  being  so  close-mouthed  about  her.  Near 
neighbors  oughter  know  all  about  one  another's  do- 
ings and  not  have  to  ask,  I  say."  Mrs.  Peavey 
sniffed  and  assumed  an  air  of  injured  patience. 

"Why,  Hettie  Ann,"  Mother  hastened  to  answer, 
"you  know  as  I  always  did  hold  that  the  give  and 
take  of  advice  from  friends  is  the  greatest  comfort 

30 


THE    SINGER   LADY 

in  the  world,  though  at  times  most  confusing,  and  I 
thought  I  told  you  all  about  Elinory." 

''Well,  you  didn't.  Muster  been  Bettie  Pratt  or 
Mis'  Pike  you  was  a-talking  to  when  you  thought 
it  was  me,"  answered  her  friend  with  the  injured 
note  in  her  voice  becoming  with  every  word  more 
noticeable.  "Are  she  rich  or  poor?  Do  you  know 
that  much?" 

"Well  now,  come  to  think  of  it,  I  don't,"  answered 
Mother  promptly.  "Connecting  up  folks  and  they 
money  always  looks  like  sticking  a  price  tag  on  you 
to  them  and  them  to  you.  I'd  rather  charge  my 
friends  to  a  Heaven-account  and  settle  the  bill  with 
friendly  feelings  as  we  go  along.  This  poor  child 
ain't  got  no  mother  or  father,  that  I  know.  All  her 
young  life  when  most  girls  ain't  got  a  thought 
above  a  beau  or  a  bonnet,  she  have  been  a-training 
of  her  voice  to  sing  great  'cause  it  were  in  her  to 
do  it.  And  she  done  it,  too.  Then  all  to  onct  when  she 
had  got  done  singing  in  a  great  big  town  hall  they 
call  Convent  Garden  or  something  up  in  New  York, 
she  made  the  mistake  to  drink  a  glass  of  ice  water 
and  it  friz  up  her  throat  chords.  She  haven't 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

been  able  to  sing  one  single  tune  since.  She  have 
been  a-roaming  over  the  earth  a-hunting  for  some 
sort  of  help  and  ain't  found  none.  Now  she  have 
lit  at  my  door  and  I've  got  her  in  trying  to  warm 
and  comfort  her  to  enough  strength  for  Tom  to  put 
her  voice  back  into  her." 

"Well,  you  don't  expect  no  such  thing  of  Tom 
Mayberry  as  that,  do  you?"  asked  Mrs.  Peavey  with 
uncompromising  and  combative  frankness. 

"That  I  do,"  answered  the  Doctor's  mother,  and 
this  time  there  was  a  note  of  dignity  in  her  voice, 
as  she  looked  her  friend  straight  in  the  face.  "You 
know,  because  I  told  you  about  it,  Hettie  Ann,  how 
Tom  Mayberry  cured  that  big  preacher  of  a  lost 
voice  who  was  a  friend  to  this  Doctor  Stein,  while 
the  boy  wasn't  nothing  but  serving  his  term  in  the 
hospital.  He  wrote  a  paper  about  it  that  made  all 
the  doctors  take  notice  of  him  and  he  have  done  it 
twice  since,  though  throats  are  just  a  side  issue 
from  skins  with  him.  Yes,  I'm  expecting  of  him 
to  cure  this  child  and  give  her  back  more'n  just  her 
voice,  her  work  in  life.  I'm  one  that  believes  that 
the  Lord  borns  all  folks  with  a  work  to  do  and 

32 


THE    SINGER   LADY 

you've  got  to  march  on  to  it,  whether  it's  singing  in 
public  places,  carrying  saddle-bags  to  suffering  or 
jest  playing  your  tune  on  the  wash-board  at  home. 
It's  a  part  of  his  hallelujah  chorus  in  which  we've 
all  got  to  join." 

"Well,  I  shorely  drawed  the  wash-board  fer  my 
instrumint,"  answered  Mrs.  Peavey  with  a  vindic- 
tive look  across  the  wall  at  a  line  of  clothes  flut- 
tering in  the  breeze. 

"And  they  ain't  nobody  in  Providence  that  turns 
out  as  white  a  shirt-song  as  you  do,  Hettie  Ann. 
Buck  and  Mr.  Peavey  are  just  looked  at  in  church 
Sundays  fer  the  color  of  they  collars,"  Mother 
hastened  to  say  with  pride  in  the  glance  that  fol- 
lowed Mrs.  Peavey's  across  the  wall.  "Ain't  Tom 
always  a-contriving  with  you  to  sneak  one  of  his 
shirts  into  your  wash,  so  as  not  to  hurt  me  and  Cin- 
dy's feelings?  I  don't  see  how  you  get  'em  so 
white." 

"Elbow  grease  and  nothing  else,"  answered  Mrs. 
Peavey  in  a  tone  of  voice  that  refused  to  be  molli- 
fied. "I've  got  to  be  a-going." 

"Just  wait  and  look  at  these  chickens;  ain't  they 
33 


pretty?  Tom  sent  all  the  way  to  Indiany  fer  the 
settin'  of  eggs  fer  me  and  I've  just  been  a-watching 
the  day  for  'em  to  hatch.  I  feel  they  are  a-going 
to  be  a  credit  to  me  and  I'm  glad  I  gave  'em  to 
Ruffle  Neck  to  set  on.  She's  such  a  good  hoverer 
and  can  be  depended  on  to  run  from  the  rain.  Now 
ain't  they  pretty?"  and  Mother  even  looked  at  Mrs. 
Peavey  with  hope  for  a  word  of  sympathy  in  her 
pleasure — after  a  thirty  years'  experience  with  her 
neighbor. 

"No,"  answered  her  friend,  "I  don't  hold  with  no 
fancy  chickens.  Just  good  dominicks  is  all  I've  got 
any  faith  in  and  not  much  in  them.  With  strange 
chickens  and  girls  around  your  house  something 
misfortunate  is  a-going  to  happen  to  you,  Mis'  May- 
berry,  and  I  see  it  a-coming.  Don't  say  I  didn't 
tell  you." 

"No,  I'll  give  you  credit  for  your  warning," 
answered  Mother  propitiatingly.  "How's  that  pain 
in  your  side?"  she  hastened  to  ask,  to  change  the 
subject  from  a  disagreeable  one  to  what  she  knew 
by  experience  would  prove  at  least  interesting. 

34 


THE    SINGER   LADY 

"It's  a  heap  better,"  answered  Mrs.  Peavey 
promptly. 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad,"  exclaimed  Mother,  immediately 
beginning  to  beam  with  pride.     "I  told  you  Tom 
(could  help  it  with  that  new  kind  of  dry  plaster  he  , 
,made  for  you.    Ain't  it  wonderful?" 

"Shoo !  I  never  put  that  on !  It  didn't  have  smell 
enough  to  do  any  good.  I  knew  that  as  soon  as  I 
unrolled  it.  I  just  rubbed  myself  heavy  with  that 
mixture  of  kerosine,  vinegar  and  gum  camfire 
you've  been  making  me  for  twenty  years,  and  I 
slept  uncommon  well." 

"Oh,"  answered  Mother  Mayberry,  "I  wish  you 
had  tried  Tom's  plaster.  I  feel  sure — " 

"Well,  I  don't — of  anything  that  a  boy  like  Tom 
Mayberry  knows.  If  he  lives  here  a  spell  and  learns 
from  you  maybe  he'll  get  some  doctoring  sense,  but 
I  wouldn't  trust  him  for  ten  years  at  the  shortest. 
But  have  you  heard  the  news  ?"  A  flame  of  positive 
joy  flared  up  in  Mrs.  Peavey's  eyes  and  flushed  her 
sallow  cheeks. 

"Why,  what  is  it  ?"  asked  Mother  with  a  guarded 

35 


THE  ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

interest  and  no  small  amount  of  anxiety,  for  she 
was  accustomed  to  the  kind  of  news  that  Mrs. 
Peavey  usually  took  the  trouble  to  spread. 

"Well,  I  knowed  what  was  a-going  to  happen 
when  I  seen  Bettie  Pratt  setting  the  chairs  straight 
and  marshaling  in  the  orphants  at  poor  Mis' 
Hoover's  funeral,  not  but  eleven  months  ago.  It'll 
be  a  scandal  to  this  town  and  had  oughter  be  took 
notice  of  by  Deacon  Bostick  and  the  Elder.  She's 
got  four  Turner  children  and  six  Pratts  and  he 
have  got  seven  of  his  own,  so  Turner,  Pratt  and 
Hoover  they'll  be  seventeen  children  in  the  house,  all 
about  the  same  size.  Then  maybe  more — I  call  it 
a  disgrace,  I  do !" 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Mother,  though  her 
eyes  did  twinkle  at  the  thought  of  this  allied  force 
of  seventeen,  "there  never  was  a  better  child-raiser 
than  Bettie  Pratt  and  I'll  be  mighty  glad  to  see 
them  poor,  forlorn  little  Hoovers  turned  over  to  her. 
They've  been  on  my  mind  night  and  day  since  they 
mother  died  and  they  ain't  a  single  one  of  'em  as 
peart  as  it  had  oughter  be.  Who  told  you  about  it  ?" 

"They  didn't  nobody  tell  me — I've  got  eyes  of  my 
36 


THE    SINGER   LADY 

own!  Just  yesterday  I  seen  her  hand  a  pan  of  bis- 
cuits over  the  fence  to  Pattie  Hoover  and  he  had  a 
Turner  and  two  Pratts  in  the  wagon  with  him  com- 
ing in  from  the  field  last  night.  But  you  can't  do 
nothing  about  it — she  have  got  the  marrying  habit. 
They  are  other  widows  in  this  town  that  have 
mourned  respectable  to  say  nothing  of  Miss  Prissy 
Pike,  that  have  never  had  no  husband  at  all  and 
had  oughter  be  gave  a  chanct.  Mr.  Hoover  are  a 
nice  man  and  I  don't  want  to  see  him  made  notice- 
able in  no  such  third-husband  way." 

"Course  it  do  look  a  little  sudden,"  said  Mother, 
"and  seventeen  is  a  good  lot  of  children  for  one 
family,  but  if  they  love  each  other — " 

"Love!  Shoo!  I  declare,  Mis'  Mayberry,  looks 
to  me  like  you  swallow  what  folks  give  you  in  this 
world  whole,  pit  and  all,  and  never  bat  a  eye.  I've 
got  to  go  home  and  put  on  Buck's  and  Mr.  Peavey's 
supper  and  sprinkle  down  some  of  my  wash."  And 
without  further  parley  Mrs.  Peavey  marched  home 
through  a  little  swinging  gate  in  the  wall  that  had 
been  for  years  a  gap  through  which  a  turbid  stream 
had  flowed  to  trouble  Mother's  peaceful  waters. 

37 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

"It  do  seem  Mis'  Peavey  are  a  victim  of  a  most 
pitiful  unrest,"  said  Mother  to  herself  as  she 
watched  with  satisfaction  Ruffle  Neck  tuck  the  last 
despised  little  Hoosier  under  her  soft  gray  breast. 
"Some  folks  act  like  they  had  dyspepsy  of  the  mind. 
Dearie  me,  I  must  go  and  take  a  glass  of  cream  to 
my  honey-bird,  for  that  between-meal  snack  that 
Tom  Mayberry  are  so  perticular  about."  And  she 
started  down  toward  the  spring-house  under  the 
hill. 

And  returning  a  half  hour  later  with  the  cool 
glass  in  her  hand,  she  was  guided  by  the  sound  of 
happy  voices  to  the  front  porch,  where,  under  the 
purple  wistaria  vine,  she  found  the  singer  lady  ab- 
sorbed in  the  construction  of  a  most  worldly  gar- 
ment for  the  doll  daughter  of  Eliza  Pike,  who  was 
watching  its  evolution  with  absorbed  interest. 

"Pleas'm,  Miss  Elinory,  make  it  a  little  bit  longer, 
'cause  I  want  her  to  have  a  beau,"  besought  the  small 
mother,  as  she  anxiously  watched  the  measuring  of 
the  skirt. 

"Want  her  to  have  a  beau  ?"  asked  Miss  Wingate 
with  the  scissors  suspended  over  the  bit  of  pink 

38 


THE    SINGER   LADY 

muslin    which    matched    exactly    her    own    ruffled 
skirts. 

"Yes'm!  Pattie  Hoover  wored  shoe-tops  all 
winter  and  now  she's  got  foot-dresses  and  Buck 
Peavey  for  a  beau." 

"Oh,  I  see,"  said  the  singer  lady  as  she  smiled 
down  into  the  eager  little  face.  "Do  you  think — 
er,  beaux  are — are  desirable,  Eliza  ?" 

"Yes'm,  I  do,"  answered  the  bud  of  a  woman,  as 
she  drew  nearer  and  said  with  an  expression  of 
one  bestowing  a  confidence,  "When  I'm  let  down  to 
my  feet  I'm  going  to  have  Doctor  Tom  for  my 
beau,  if  you  don't  get  him  first." 

"I'm  sure  you  needn't  worry  about  that,  Eliza," 
Miss  Wingate  hastened  to  exclaim  with  a  rising 
color.  "I  wouldn't  interfere  with  your  plans  for 
the  world — if  I  could." 

"Well,  you  take  him  if  you  can  get  him,"  an- 
swered Eliza  generously;  "somebody'll  grow  up  by 
that  time  for  me.  But  he  couldn't  make  you  take 
oil,  could  he?"  she  asked  doubtfully,  the  memory  of 
yesterday's  escape  lurking  in  her  mind  and  explain- 
ing her  most  un feminine  generosity. 

39 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

Miss  Wingate  eyed  her  for  a  moment  with  mirth 
fairly  dancing  over  her  face,  "Yes,"  she  said  with 
a  laugh,  "I  believe  he  could!" 

"Elinory,  child,"  said  Mother  as  she  came  out 
from  the  front  hall,  "here  we  are  a  half  hour  late 
with  this  cream,  and  both  of  us  under  promise  sol- 
emn to  Tom  to  have  it  down  by  four  o'clock.  'Liza, 
honey,  how's  the  baby?" 

"He  have  got  a  new  top-tooth  and  throwed  up 
onct  this  morning,"  answered  Eliza  in  a  practical 
tone  of  voice. 

"Dearie  me,"  said  Mother  anxiously,  for  the  Pike 
teether  had  up  to  this  time  been  the  Doctor's  prize 
patient.  "I  wonder  if  your  Maw  remembered  the 
lime  water  faithful?" 

"I  expect  she  forgot  it,  for  she  was  whipping  Su- 
sie for  sassing  Aunt  Prissy,  and  Bud  for  saying 
fool,"  answered  Eliza,  not  at  all  hesitating  to  lay 
bare  the  iniquities  of  her  family  circle. 

"I'm  sorry  they  did  like  that,"  said  Mother  with 
real  concern  at  the  news  of  such  delinquencies. 

"Yes'm,  Susie  told  Aunt  Prissy  Mis'  Peavey  said 
she  were  a-setting  her  cap  fer  Mr.  Hoover  and  it 

40 


THE    SINGER   LADY 

made  Bud  mad  'cause  he  fights  'Lias  Hoover  and  he 
called  her  a  fool.  He  hadn't  oughter  done  it,  but  he's 
touchy  'bout  Aunt  Prissy  and  so's  Paw.  There 
comes  Deacon  and  a  little  boy  with  him." 

As  she  spoke,  Mother  rose  to  greet  Deacon  Bostick 
who  had  turned  in  the  front  gate  and  got  as  far  up 
the  front  walk  as  the  second  snowball  bush.  The 
Deacon  was  tall,  lean,  bent  and  snow-crowned,  with 
bright  old  eyes  that  rested  in  a  benediction  on  the 
group  on  the  porch  that  his  fine  old  smile  confirmed. 
By  the  hand  he  led  a  tiny  boy  who  was  clad  in  a 
long  nondescript  garment  and  topped  off  by  a  queer 
red  fez,  pulled  down  over  a  crop  of  yellow  curls,  a 
strange  little  exotic  against  the  homely  background 
of  Mother  Mayberry's  lilac  bushes. 

"Sister  Mayberry,"  said  the  deacon  as  he  paused 
at  the  foot  of  the  steps,  "this  is  Martin  Luther 
Hathaway  who  was  left  at  my  house  this  morning 
by  the  Circuit  Rider,  as  he  came  through  from 
Springfield  on  his  way  to  Flat  Rock,  to  be  delivered 
to  you,  along  with  his  letter.  I  trust  his  arrival  is 
not  unexpected  to  you." 

"No,   indeed,   Deacon,  I  was  hoping   for  him 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

though  not  exactly  expecting  him.  A  month  ago 
while  you  was  sick,  our  missionary  society  had  news 
of  a  missionary  and  his  wife  down  at  Springfield 
who  wanted  to  go  up  to  Chicagy  to  study  some  more 
about  some  heathen  matter,  and  couldn't  quite  make 
it  with  two  children.  My  cousin  Seliny  Lue  down 
to  the  Bluff  have  took  the  little  girl  and  we  sent 
five  dollars  and  a  letter  saying  to  send  the  boy  to 
me  for  the  summer.  Come  to  Mother  Mayberry, 
sonny,"  and  Mother  sat  down  on  the  lowest  step 
and  stretched  out  her  arms  to  the  little  ward  of 
the  church  militant. 

Martin  Luther's  big  blue  eyes,  which  were  set 
in  his  head  like  those  of  a  Raphael  cherub,  looked 
out  from  under  a  huge  yellow  curl  that  fell  over 
his  forehead,  straight  into  Mother's  gray  ones  for 
a  moment,  and  sticking  his  pink  thumb  into  his 
mouth,  he  sidled  into  her  embrace  with  a  little  sigh 
of  evident  relief. 

"Eat  some,  thank  ma'am,  please,"  he  whispered 
into  her  ear  by  way  of  a  return  of  the  introduction. 
His  little  mother  tongue  had  evidently  suffered  a 
slight  twist  by  his  birth  and  sojourn  in  a  foreign 

42 


THE    SINGER   LADY 

country,  but  it  served  to  express  the  normal  condi- 
tion of  all  inhabitants  of  boy-land. 

"Of  course  he's  hungry,  bless  his  little  heart," 
answered  Mother  as  she  removed  the  fez  and  ruf- 
fled up  the  damp  curls.  "Run  fetch  the  tea-cake 
bucket  from  the  kitchen  safe,  'Liza,  and  won't  you 
come  sit  down,  Deacon?" 

"No,  thank  you,  Sister,"  answered  the  Deacon 
with  a  glance  of  real  regret  at  the  comfortable 
rocker  Miss  Wingate  had  hastened  to  draw  forward 
into  a  sunny  but  sheltered  corner  of  the  porch,  "I'm 
on  my  way  to  take  tea  with  Sister  Pratt.  I'm  to 
meet  Mrs.  Bostick  there.  How's  the  throat,  child?" 
And  his  smile  up  at  the  singer  lady  was  one  of  the 
most  sympathetic  interest. 

"Better,  thank  you,  I  think,"  said  Miss  Wingate, 
answering  both  question  and  smile.  "How  well 
you  are  looking  to-day,  Deacon !" 

"Why,  I'm  made  over  new  by  that  boy  of  a  Doc- 
tor," said  the  Deacon,  fairly  beaming  with  enthusi- 
asm. "Your  cure  will  be  only  a  matter  of  time,  a 
matter  of  time,  my  dear — Squire  Tutt  to  the  con- 
trary," he  added  with  a  chuckle. 

43 


"There,  bless  my  heart,  if  my  ears  ain't  heard  two 
testimonies  to  Tom  Mayberry  all  in  one  minute!" 
exclaimed  Mother  with  a  delighted  laugh.  "Have 
a  cake,  won't  you,  Deacon?"  she  asked,  offering  the 
bucket. 

She  then  established  Eliza  and  the  small  stranger 
on  the  edge  of  the  steps,  with  an  admonition  as  to 
the  disposal  of  the  crumbs  over  on  to  the  grass,  and 
filled  both  pairs  of  hands  with  the  crisp  discs.  Eliza 
spread  the  end  of  her  short  blue  calico  skirt  over 
Martin  Luther's  chubby  knees,  and  they  both  pro- 
ceeded to  eat  into  the  improvised  napkin  with  the 
utmost  comradeship.  Miss  Wingate  had  strolled 
down  to  the  gate  with  the  Deacon  and  had  paused 
on  the  way  to  decorate  the  buttonhole  of  his  shiny 
old  coat  with  a  bit  of  the  white  lilac  nodding  over 
the  wall. 

"  'Liza,  child,"  said  Mother  as  she  glanced  at 
Martin  Luther  with  a  contemplative  eye,  "when 
you're  done  eating  run  over  and  ask  your  Maw  to 
send  me  a  pair  of  Billy's  britches  and  a  shirt.  No, 
maybe  young  Ez's  '11  be  better,  and  bring  'em  and 
Martin  Luther  on  back  to  the  kitchen  to  me."  With 

44 


THE    SINGER   LADY 

which  she  disappeared  into  the  house,  leaving  the 
munchers  to  finish  their  feast  alone. 

And  in  an  incredibly  short  time  the  last  crumb, 
even  those  rescued  from  the  skirt,  had  disappeared 
and  Eliza  had  led  Martin  Luther  down  the  walk, 
across  the  Road  and  around  the  corner  of  the  Pike 
cottage,  while  the  Deacon  still  lingered  talking  to 
Miss  Wingate  at  the  gate.  Eliza  had  taken  upon 
herself,  with  her  usual  generalship,  the  development 
of  Mother  Mayberry's  plan  for  the  arraying  of  the 
young  stranger  in  what  Providence  would  consider 
a  civilized  garb. 

And  for  some  minutes  Miss  Wingate  stood  lean- 
ing over  the  top  rail  of  the  low  gate  idly  watching 
a  group  of  Pratts,  Turners,  Mosbeys,  Hoovers  and 
Pikes  playing  a  mysterious  game,  which  necessitated 
wild  dashes  across  a  line  drawn  down  the  middle 
of  the  Road  in  the  white  dust,  shrill  cries  of  capture 
and  frequent  change  of  base.  The  day  had  been  a 
long  sunshiny  one,  full  of  absorbing  interests,  and 
as  she  stood  drinking  in  the  perfume  from  a  spray 
of  lilac  she  had  broken  to  choose  the  bit  for  the 
Deacon,  she  suddenly  realized  that  not  one  minute 

45 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

had  she  found  in  which  to  let  the  horrible  dread 
creep  close  and  clutch  at  her  throat.  Helping  along 
in  the  construction  of  a  bucket  of  tea-cakes,  the 
printing  of  four  cakes  of  butter,  the  simmering  of  a 
large  pan  of  horehound  syrup  and  the  excitement  of 
pouring  it  into  the  family  bottles  that  Mother  was 
filling  against  a  sudden  night  call  from  some  crouper 
down  or  across  the  Road,  to  say  nothing  of  a  most 
exciting  pie,  that  had  been  concocted  entirely  by 
herself  from  a  jar  of  peaches  and  frilled  around 
with  the  utmost  regard  for  its  artistic  appearance,  to 
which  could  be  added  the  triumph  of  the  long- 
tailed  pink  gown  for  the  daughter  of  young  Eliza, 
had  kept  her  busy  and — with  a  quick  smile  she  had 
to  admit  to  herself,  happy.  Indeed  the  remembrance 
of  the  rapid  disappearance  of  the  pie  and  Doctor 
Mayberry's  blush  when,  after  he  had  eaten  two- 
thirds  of  it,  his  mother  had  informed  him  of  the 
authorship,  brought  a  positive  glow  of  pleasure  to 
her  cheeks.  Such  a  serious,  gentle,  skilful  young 
Doctor  as  he  was — and  "a  perfect  dear"  she  went 
as  far  as  admitting  to  herself,  this  time  with  a  low 
laugh. 

46 


THE   SINGER   LADY 

And  as  if  her  pondering  on  his  virtues  had  had 
power  to  bring  a  materialization,  suddenly  Doctor 
Tom  stood  in  front  of  her  on  the  other  side  of  the 
gate.  He  had  come  from  up  the  Road  while  she 
had  been  looking  down  in  the  other  direction,  and 
in  his  hand  he  held  a  spray  of  purple  lilacs  which 
he  had  broken  from  a  large  bush  that  hung  over  the 
fence  from  the  Pratt  yard  into  the  Road  and  also 
spread  itself  a  yard  or  two  into  Hoover  territory. 

"Aren't  they  lovely  and  plumy?"  she  asked,  as 
she  took  the  bunch  he  offered  and  laid  the  purple 
flowers  against  the  white  ones  she  held  in  her  hand. 
"These  are  so  much  darker  than  Mrs.  Mayberry's 
purple  ones.  I  wonder  why." 

"Some  years  they  bloom  lighter  than  Mother's 
and  other  years  still  darker — just  another  one  of 
the  mysteries,"  he  answered  as  he  leaned  against  the 
gate-post  and  looked  down  at  her  with  a  smile.  He 
was  tall,  and  strong,  and  forceful,  with  a  clean-cut 
young  face  which  was  lit  by  Mother  Mayberry's 
very  own  black-lashed,  serene  gray  eyes,  and  his 
very  evident  air  of  a  man  of  affairs  had  much  of  the 
charm  of  Mother  Mayberry's  rustic  dignity.  His 

47 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

serge  coat,  blue  shirt  and  soft  gray  tie  had  a  decided 
cut  of  sophistication  and  were  worn  with  a  most 
worldly  grace  that  was  yet  strangely  harmonious 
with  his  surroundings.  For  with  all  of  his  distinc- 
tions in  appearance  and  attainments,  as  a  man  he 
struck  no  discord  when  contrasted  with  Mr.  Pike's 
shirt-sleeved,  butternut-trousers  personality  and  he 
seemed  but  the  flowering  of  Buck  Peavey's  store- 
clothes  ambitions.  The  accord  of  it  all  struck  Miss 
Wingate  so  forcibly  that  unconsciously  she  gave 
voice  to  the  feeling. 

"How  at  home  you  are  in  all  this — this — "  she 
paused  and  raised  her  eyes  to  his  with  a  hint  of 
helplessness  to  express  herself  within  them. 

"Simple  life,"  he  supplied  with  a  smile  that  held 
a  bit  of  banter. 

"It's  not  so  simple  as  one  would  think  to  balance 
a  pie  plate  on  one  hand  and  cut  around  it  with  a 
knife  so  the  edges  aren't  jagged — to  be  all  con- 
sumed within  the  hour,"  she  answered  with  spirit, 
rising  to  the  slight  challenge  in  his  voice  and  smile. 
"And  there  are  other  most  complicated  things  I 
have  discovered  that — " 

48 


THE   SINGER   LADY 

But  just  here  she  was  interrupted  by  a  sally  from 
around  the  corner  of  the  Pike  house  which  streamed 
out  across  the  Road,  headed  precisely  in  their  direc- 
tion. Eliza  was  in  the  lead  and  held  little  Teether 
swung  perilously  across  one  slender  hip,  while  she 
clasped  Martin  Luther's  chubby  ringers  in  her  other 
hand.  And  behold,  the  transformation  of  the 
young  stranger  was  complete  beyond  belief!  His 
yellow  thatch  was  crowned  by  a  straw  hat,  which 
was  circled  by  a  brand  new  shoestring,  though  it 
gaped  across  the  crown  to  let  out  a  peeping  curl. 
Young  Ez's  garments  even  had  proved  a  size  too 
large  and  the  faded  blue  jeans  "britches"  were  rolled 
up  over  his  round  little  knees  and  hitched  up  high 
under  his  arms  by  an  improvised  pair  of  calico  "gal- 
luses" which  were  stretched  tight  over  a  clean  but 
much  patched  gingham  shirt.  His  feet  and  legs 
had  been  stripped  in  accordance  with  the  time- 
ordered  custom  in  Providence  that  bare  feet  could 
greet  May  Day,  and  his  little,  bare,  pink  toes  curled 
up  with  protest  against  the  roughness  of  even  the 
dust-softened  pike.  Susie  May,  Billy  and  young 
Ez  beamed  with  pride  at  their  share  in  the  rehabit- 

49 


ing  of  the  recent  acquisition  and  waited  breathlessly 
for  words  of  praise  from  Miss  Wingate  and  the 
Doctor. 

"Why,  who  is  this?"  asked  the  Doctor  quickly 
with  a  most  gratifying  interest  in  his  big  voice, 
while  Miss  Wingate  came  out  of  the  gate  on  to  the 
pavement. 

"It's  the  little  missionary  boy  that  the  Deacon 
brought  Mother  Mayberry.  I  guess  the  Lord  sent 
him,  for  he's  too  big  to  come  outen  a  cabbage,"  an- 
swered Eliza,  and  as  she  spoke  she  settled  the  hat 
an  inch  farther  down  over  the  curls  with  a  moth- 
erly gesture.  She  had  failed  to  grasp  with  exactness 
the  situation  concerning  the  advent  of  Martin  Lu- 
ther, but  was  supplying  a  version  of  her  own  that 
seemed  entirely  satisfactory  to  the  youngster's  newly 
acquired  friends. 

"Spit  through  teeth,"  ventured  the  young 
stranger,  anxious  to  display  an  accomplishment  that 
had  been  bestowed  upon  him  by  Billy  while  the 
"galluses"  were  in  process  of  construction  a  few 
minutes  ago.  "Thank  ma'am,  please,"  he  hastened 
to  add  with  pathetic  loyalty  to  some  injunction  that 

50 


THE    SINGER   LADY 

had  been  impressed  upon  his  young  mind  before  his 
embarkation  upon  strange  seas. 

"Let  me  see  you  do  it,"  demanded  the  Doctor,  in 
f  instant  sympathy  with  his  pride  in  this  newly  ac- 
quired national  accomplishment. 

"He  hasn't  got  time  to  do  it  now,"  answered 
Eliza  importantly,  as  she  hitched  Teether  a  notch 
higher  up  on  her  arm.  "I've  got  to  take  him  and  the 
baby  in  to  Mother  Mayberry  to  see  if  his  other  top- 
tooth  have  come  up  enough  for  Maw  to  rub  it 
through  with  her  thimble."  Though  she  did  not 
designate  Teether  as  the  subject  of  the  operation 
the  audience  understood  that  it  was  he  and  not 
Martin  Luther  so  fated. 

"Oh,  no,  no !"  exclaimed  Miss  Wingate  in  horror, 
and  she  reached  out  and  took  Teether  into  protec- 
tive arms.  The  day  had  been  a  long  and  weary  one 
for  Teether  Pike  and  he  dropped  his  tired  little  head 
over  on  the  cool  pink  muslin  shoulder  and  nestled 
his  aching  jaw  against  the  smooth  white  neck. 

"Hold  him  still  just  a  second  as  he  is,"  said  Doc- 
tor Tom  quickly,  and  in  an  instant  he  had  whipped 
a  case  from  his  pocket,  selected  an  instrument  and, 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

inserting  his  finger  between  the  pink  lips,  he 
rendered  unnecessary  the  agony  of  the  maternal 
thimble.  It  had  been  done  so  quickly  that  Teether 
himself  only  nestled  a  bit  closer  with  a  faint  moan, 
and  Miss  Wingate  looked  up  at  the  operator  with 
grateful  eyes.  She  hugged  the  limp  baby  closer 
and  started  to  speak,  but  was  interrupted  by  an 
anxious  question  from  Eliza. 

"Did  you  cut  it  ?"  she  demanded. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  Doctor  non-committally. 

"Well,  Maw'll  be  mighty  mad  at  you,  for  Mothet 
Mayberry  asked  her  last  night  to  let  you  cut  it  and 
she  said  she'd  thimbled  the  rest  of  us  and  she  reck- 
oned he  could  stand  it  too.  If  it  was  me,  I'd  let  you 
cut  me  wide  open  and  sew  me  up  again  if  you 
wanted  to,"  and  Eliza  beamed  upon  the  Doctor 
with  an  affection  that  was  the  acme  of  idealization. 
She  had  forgotten  that  only  a  few  hours  ago  she 
had  renounced  her  loyalty  at  the  memory  of  the 
oil,  but  Miss  Wingate  smiled  in  appreciation  of  this 
display  of  further  feminine  inconsistency. 

"Shucks,"  said  Billy,  "you'd  holler  'fore  he  could 
cut  onct.  I'm  a-going  to  let  him  fix  my  next  stump 

52 


THE    SINGER   LADY 

toe  and  'Lias  Hoover  have  got  two  warts  he  can 
cut  off,  if  he  gives  him  a  piece  of  catgut  string  to 
tie  on  fish  hooks."  And  Billy  looked  as  if  he  ex- 
pected to  see  the  Doctor  entirely  overwhelmed  at  the 
prospect  of  so  much  practice  so  easily  obtained. 

"Go  take  Martin  Luther  to  show  Mrs.  Mayberry, 
Eliza,"  said  Miss  Wingate  with  a  laughing  smile 
over  the  baby's  head  at  the  Doctor  and  his  practice. 
"I'll  come  on  with  the  baby."  And  with  Teether  still 
embraced  she  strolled  up  the  walk  with  Doctor  May- 
berry  at  her  side.  When  they  reached  the  front 
steps  she  seated  herself  on  the  top  one  and  slowly 
lowered  the  drowsy  little  chap,  until  his  head  rested 
on  her  breast  and  her  arms  held  him  cradlewise. 
She  began  a  low  husky  humming  as  she  rocked  her- 
self to  and  fro,  watching  breathlessly  the  fringed 
lashes  sink  over  his  wearied  eyes,  until  they  lay  like 
shadows  on  the  purple  circles  beneath.  She  was  ut- 
terly absorbed  in  getting  Teether  into  a  comatose 
condition,  and  had  neither  eyes  nor  ears  for  the  Doc- 
tor; not  that  he  claimed  either. 

He  sat  for  some  moments  watching  her  and 
listening  breathlessly  to  the  low  music  that  came  out 

53 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

through  the  wonderful  throat,  as  if  from  some  mas- 
ter instrument  with  strings  uncouthly  muted.  And 
as  he  looked,  the  horrible  thought  clutched  at  his 
own  heart.  Suppose  he  should  not  be  able  to  free 
her  voice  for  her!  Many  others  had  tried — the 
greatest — and  they  had  all  been  baffled  by  the 
strange  stiffness  of  the  chords.  He  knew  himself 
to  be,  in  a  way,  her  last  resort.  A  world  of  music 
lovers  awaited  the  result.  He  had  been  obliged  to 
send  out  two  Press  bulletins  as  to  her  condition 
within  the  week — and  she  sat  on  the  steps  in  the 
twilight  humming  Teether  Pike  to  sleep,  shut  in  by 
the  Harpeth  Hills  with  only  him  to  fight  her  fight  for 
her.  He  almost  groaned  aloud  with  the  pain  of  it, 
when  into  his  consciousness  came  Mother  May- 
berry's  placid  voice  shooing  the  Pike  children  home 
with  promises  and  admonitions.  A  line  from 
Doctor  Stein's  letter  flashed  into  his  mind :  "And 
first  and  above  all  I  want  your  mother  to  put  heart 
and  hope  into  the  girl."  The  fight  was  not  his  alone, 
thank  God,  and  he  knew  just  how  much  he  could 
trust  to  his  mother's  heart-building.  Why  not  ?  Over 
the  land  men  were  learning  to  strengthen  the  man 

54 


THE    SINGER   LADY 

within  before  attempting  to  cure  the  man  without. 
Hadn't  that  always  been  his  mother's  unconscious 
policy  out  on  Harpeth  Hills?  A  deep  calm  fell 
into  his  troubled  spirit  and,  as  the  singer  lady  and 
Mother  escorted  the  escort  down  the  walk,  he  slipped 
away  into  his  office  for  an  hour  before  supper  with 
his  reports  and  microscope. 

A  half  hour  later  Mother  Mayberry  came  into  his 
office  for  the  little  chat  she  often  took  the  time  for 
just  before  the  summons  to  supper.  She  seated 
herself  by  the  open  window,  through  which  the  twi- 
light was  creeping,  and  he  threw  down  his  pen  and 
came  and  stood  leaning  against  the  casement. 

"Well,"  she  said  with  a  long  breath  of  content- 
ment, "well,  I  do  feel  about  ready  to  get  ready  to 
rest.  The  Pikeses  is  all  in,  I  heard  Bettie  Pratt 
calling  in  the  Turners  and  Pratts  and  Hoovers,  Buck 
have  come  home  to  supper  on  time,  as  I  know  will 
relieve  Hettie  Ann's  mind,  Squire  Tutt  just  went  in 
the  front  gate  as  I  come  up  the  walk  and  I  seen 
Mis'  Bostick  light  the  lamp  in  the  Deacon's  study 
from  my  kitchen  window  a  minute  ago.  They  ain't 
nothing  in  the  world  that  makes  me  so  contented 

55 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

as  to  know  that  all  Providence  is  a-setting  down  to 
meals  at  the  same  time  and  a- feeding  together  as 
one  family,  though  in  different  houses.  The  good 
Lord  will  get  all  the  rendered  thanks  at  the  same 
time  and  I  feel  it  will  please  Him — ours  is  late  on 
account  of  Elinory  deciding  at  the  last  minute  to 
beat  up  some  clabber  cheese  with  fresh  cream  for 
your  supper,  like  she  says  they  fix  it  up  over  in 
Europe  somewhere  she  lived  while  she  was  a-study- 
ing  to  sing.  I  come  on  out  so  she  could  have  a 
swing  to  herself  and  not  think  anybody  was  a-hur- 
rying  of  her.  It's  a  riled  woman  as  generally  answers 
the  call  of  hurry  and  I  never  gives  it,  lessen  it's  life 
or  death  or  a  chicken-hawk." 

"But,  Mother,"  remonstrated  the  Doctor  with  a 
very  real  distress  in  his  voice,  "ought  you  to  let  her 
— Miss  Wingate — do  such  things — so  many  things  ? 
Are  you  sure  she  enjoys  it  and  is  not  just  doing  it 
to  help  or  because  she  thinks  she  ought?  Or  do 
you—?" 

"Well,"  interrupted  Mother  decidedly,  "it's  my 
opinion  they  ain't  nothing  in  the  world  so  heavy  as 
empty  hands.  She  have  had  to  lay  down  a  music 

56 


THE    SINGER   LADY 

book  and  I  don't  know  nothing  better  to  offer  than 
a  butter-paddle  and  a  bread-bowl.  It's  the  feeding  of 
folks  that  counts  in  a  woman's  life,  whether  it  be 
songs  or  just  bread  and  butter.  If  Elinory's  tunes 
was  as  much  of  a  success  as  her  riz  biscuits  have 
come  to  be,  I  wisht  I  could  have  heard  her  just 
onct" 

"I  did,  Mother,  the  first  night  she  sang  in  Amer- 
ica— and  it  was  very  wonderful.  When  I  think  of 
the  great  opera  house,  the  lights  and  the  flowers, 
the  audience  mad  with  joy  and  the  applause  and — I 
— I — wonder  how  she  stands  it !" 

"Yes,"  answered  Mother,  "I  reckon  wondering 
how  Eve  stood  things  muster  took  Adam's  mind 
offen  hisself  to  a  very  comforting  degree.  Cour- 
age was  the  ingredient  the  good  Lord  took  to  start 
making  a  woman  with  and  it's  been  a-witnessing  his 
spirit  in  her  ever  since.  I  oughtn't  to  have  to  tell 
you  that." 

"You  don't,"  Doctor  Tom  hastened  to  answer  as 
he  smiled  down  on  Mother.  "I  only  spoke  as  I 
did  about  Miss  Wingate  because  you  see  she  is — 
well,  what  we  would  call  a  very  great  lady  and  I 

57 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

wouldn't  have  her  think  that   I   did  not   realize 
that—" 

"Well,  you  can  do  as  you  choose,"  answered 
Mother  placidly  as  she  prepared  to  take  her  depart- 
ure to  see  to  the  finishing  up  of  the  supper,  "but  I 
ain't  a-letting  no  foolish  pride  hold  my  heart  back 
from  my  honey-bird.  Love's  my  bread  of  life  and 
I  offers  it  free,  high  or  low.  Come  on  and  see  how 
you  like  that  cheese  fixing  she's  done  made  for  you." 


CHAPTER  III 

THE    PEONY-GIRL   AND    THE    BUMPKIN 

THERE'S  just  no  doubt  about  it,  if  Tom 
Mayberry  weren't  my  own  son  and  I  had 
occasion  to  know  better  I'd  think  he  had  teeth  in  his 
heels,  from  the  looks  of  his  socks.  Every  week 
Cindy  darns  them  a  spell  and  then  I  take  a  hand  at 
it.  Just  look,  Elinory,  did  you  ever  see  a  worser 
hole  than  this?"  As  Mother  Mayberry  spoke  she 
held  up  for  Miss  Wingate's  interested  inspection  a 
fine,  dark  blue  sock.  They  were  sitting  on  the 
porch  in  the  late  afternoon  and  the  singer  lady  was 
again  at  work  on  a  bit  of  wardrobe  for  the  doll 
daughter  of  her  friend  Eliza. 

"How  does  he  manage  such — such  awful  ones?" 
asked  Miss  Wingate  with  a  laugh. 

"That  you  can't  never  prove  by  me,"  answered 
his  mother  as  she  slipped  a  small  gourd  into  the  top 
of  the  sock  and  drew  a  thread  through  her  needle. 

59 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

"Sometimes  I  wish  the  time  when  I  could  turn  him 
barefooted  from  May  to  November  had  never  gone 
by.  But  a-wishing  they  children  back  in  years  is  a 
habit  most  mothers  have  got  in  common,  I  reckon. 
When  he's  away  from  me  I  dream  him  often  at  all 
ages,  but  it's  mostly  from  six  to  eleven  I  seem  to 
want  him.  When  he  were  six,  with  Doctor  May- 
berry  gone,  I  took  to  steadying  myself  by  Tom  and 
at  eleven  I  made  up  my  mind  to  give  him  up." 

"Give  him  up?"  asked  Miss  Wingate  as  she 
raised  her  eyes  from  her  work.  "I  don't  think  you 
seem  to  have  given  him  up  to  any  serious  extent." 
And  she  smiled  as  she  turned  her  head  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  office  wing,  from  which  came  a  low 
whistled  tune,  jerkily  and  absorbedly  rendered. 

"Oh,  he  don't  belong  to  me  no  more,"  answered 
his  mother  in  a  placid  tone  of  voice  as  she  rocked 
to  and  fro  with  her  work.  "I  fought  out  all  that 
fight  when  I  took  my  resolve.  I  just  figured  some- 
thing like  this,  Pa  Lovell  had  been  a-doctoring  on 
Harpeth  Hills  for  a  lifetime  and  Doctor  Mayberry 
had  gave  all  his  young-man  life  to  answering  the 
call,  a-carrying  the  grace  of  God  as  his  main  remedy, 

60 


THE    PEONY-GIRL 

so  now  I  felt  like  the  time  had  come  for  a  Lovell 
and  a  Mayberry  to  go  out  and  be  something  to  the 
rest  of  the  world,  and  Tom  were  the  one  to  carry 
the  flag.  I  seen  that  the  call  were  on  him  since  he 
helped  me  through  a  spell  of  May  pips  with  over 
two  hundred  little  chickens  before  he  were  five 
years  old,  and  he  cut  a  knot  out  of  the  Deacon's  roan 
horse  by  the  direction  of  a  book  when  he  weren't 
but  eleven,  as  saved  its  life.  That  kinder  settled 
it  with  me  and  the  Deacon  both,  though  we  talked 
it  back  and  forth  for  two  more  years.  Then  Dea- 
con took  to  teaching  of  him  regular  and  I  set  in 
to  save  all  I  could  from  the  thin  peeling  of  potatoes 
to  worser  darnings  and  patches  than  this.  Would 
you  think  they  could  be  any  worser?"  And  she 
smiled  up  over  her  glasses  at  the  girl  opposite  her. 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  demanded  the  singer  lady  in- 
terestedly. "Where  did  you  send  him  to  school 
first?" 

"Right  down  here  to  the  City.  You  see  Doctor 
Mayberry  left  me  this  home,  fifty  acres  and  a  small 
life  insurance,  so  they  was  a  little  something  to  inch 
and  pinch  on.  You  can't  save  by  trying  to  peel 

61 


THE  ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

nothing,  but  the  smallest  potatoes  have  got  a  skin, 
and  I  peeled  close  them  days.  Tom  did  his  part  too 
and  he  run  the  plow  deep  and  straight  when  he 
wasn't  much  taller  than  the  handles.  I  had  done 
talked  it  over  with  him  and  asked  him  would  he, 
and  he  looked  right  in  my  eyes  in  his  dependable 
way  and  said  yes  he  would.  That  finished  it  and  he 
wasn't  but  eleven;  but  I  don't  want  to  brag  on  him 
to  you.  If  you  listen  to  mothers'  talk  the  world  are 
full  of  heroes  and  none-suches."  Again  Miss  Win- 
gate  received  the  smile  from  over  Mother  May- 
berry's  glasses  and  this  time  it  was  tinged  with  a 
whimsical  pride. 

"Please,  Mrs.  Mayberry,  tell  me  about  it;  you 
know  I  want  to  hear,"  begged  the  girl,  and  she 
moved  her  chair  nearer  to  Mother's  and  picked  up 
the  mate  of  the  blue  sock  off  her  knee.  "How  old 
was  he  when  he  went  to  college  ?" 

"Just  sixteen,  big  and  hearty  and  with  enough  in 
his  head  to  get  through  the  examinations.  I 
packed  him  up,  and  him  and  the  Deacon  started 
down  Providence  Road  at  sun-up  in  the  Deacon's 
old  buggy.  He  looked  both  man  and  baby  to  me  as 

62 


THE   PEONY-GIRL 

he  turned  around  to  smile  back ;  but  I  stood  it  out  at 
the  gate  until  they  turned  the  bend,  then  I  come  on 
back  to  the  house  quick  like  some  kind  of  hurted 
animal.  But,  dearie  me,  I  never  got  a  single  tear 
shed,  for  there  were  Mis'  Peavey  with  Buck  in  her 
arms,  shaking  him  upside  down  to  get  out  a  brass 
button  he  hadn't  swallowed.  By  the  time  we 
poured  him  full  of  hot  mustard  water  and  the  but- 
ton fell  outen  his  little  apron  pocket,  I  had  done  got 
my  grip  on  myself." 

"I  just  can't  stand  it  that  you  had  to  let  him  go," 
Miss  Wingate  both  laughed  and  sobbed. 

"Yes,  but  I  ain't  told  you  about  the  commence- 
ment, honey-bird.  There's  that  tear  /  didn't  get  to 
drop  a-splashing  outen  your  eyes  on  the  doll's  hat! 
That  day  was  the  most  grandest  thing  that  ever 
happened  to  anybody's  mother,  anywhere  in  this 
world.  I  didn't  think  I  could  go  to  see  him  get  the 
diplomy,  for  with  all  his  saving  ways  and  working 
hard  in  the  summer,  it  had  been  a  pull  to  make ' 
buckle  and  tongue  meet  and  there  just  wasn't  noth- 
ing left  for  me  to  buy  no  stylish  clothes  to  wear.  I 
set  here  a-worrying  over  it,  not  that  I  minded,  but  it 

63 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

was  hard  on  the  boy  to  have  to  make  his  step-off  in 
life  and  his  mother  not  be  there  to  see.  And  some- 
how I  felt  as  if  it  would  hurt  Pa  Lovell  and  Doctor 
Mayberry  for  me  not  to  be  with  him.  Then  with 
thinking  of  Pa  Lovell  a  sudden  idea  popped  into  my 
head.  There  was  Seliny  Lue  Lovell  right  down  to 
the  Bluff,  on  the  road  to  town,  and  with  Aunt 
Lovell's  fine  black  silk  dress  packed  away  in  the 
trunk,  as  good  as  new,  and  me  and  Seliny  Lue  of  al- 
most the  same  figger  as  her  mother.  That  just  settled 
the  question  and  I  got  up  and  washed  out  my  water- 
waves  in  a  little  bluing  water  to  make  'em  extra 
white,  dabbed  buttermilk  on  my  face  to  get  off  some 
of  the  tan  and  called  over  Mis'  Peavey  and  Mis'  Pike 
to  let  'em  know.  The  next  morning  I  started  off 
gay  with  everybody  there  to  see  and  sending  mes- 
sages to  Tom." 

"Wasn't  it  fortunate  you  thought  of  the  dress 
and  lovely  for  you  to  be  able  to  go  right  by  and  get 
it!"  exclaimed  Miss  Wingate,  her  eyes  as  bright  as 
Mother  Mayberry's  and  her  cheeks  pink  with  excite- 
ment as  the  tale  began  to  unfold  its  dramatic  length. 

"Yes,  and  Seliny  Lue  was  glad  enough  to  see  me ! 
64 


THE   PEONY-GIRL 

We  laughed  and  talked  half  the  night,  was  up  early, 
and  she  took  a  time  to  rig  me  out.  It  is  a  stiff  black 
silk,  as  anybody  would  be  proud  of,  cut  liberal, 
with  real  lace  collar  and  cuffs.  Seliny  Lue  said  I 
looked  fine  in  it.  I  wisht  she  could  have  gone 
with  me,  but  they  wasn't  room  for  both  of  us  inside 
the  dress."  And  Mother  laughed  merrily  at  the 
memory  of  her  borrowing  escapade. 

"Did  Doctor  Mayberry  know  you  were  coming  ?" 
asked  the  singer  lady,  hurrying  on  the  climax  of  the 
recital. 

"Not  a  word !  He'd  gone  off  the  week  before  tak- 
ing it  sensible,  but  I  could  see  hurt  mightily  about  it. 
I  got  to  the  University  Hall  late,  and  'most  every- 
body in  the  world  looked  like  they  was  there.  I 
stood  at  the  back  and  didn't  hope  to  see  or  hear,  just 
thankful  to  be  near  him,  but  I  seen  one  of  them 
young  usher  men  a-looking  hard  at  me  and  he  came 
up  and  asked  me  if  I  wasn't  Mr.  Thomas  May- 
berry's  mother.  He  had  knew  me  by  the  favor.  I 
told  him  yes  and  he  took  me  up  to  the  very  front 
just  as  the  singing  begun.  I  soon  got  me  and  the 
silk  dress  settled,  with  the  bokay  all  Providence  had 

65 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

sent  Tom  on  my  knee,  and  looked  around  me. 
There  next  to  me  was  the  sweetest  young-lady  girl 
I  have  'most  ever  saw,  and  she  smiled  at  me  real 
friendly.  I  was  just  about  to  speak  when  the  music 
stopped  and  the  addressing  began  by  a  tall  thin 
kinder  man.  Elinory,  child,  did  you  ever  hear  one  of 
them  young  men's  life-commencement  speeches 
made?"  This  time  Mother  Mayberry  peered  over 
the  top  of  her  glasses  seriously  and  her  needle 
paused  suspended  over  the  fast  narrowing  hole  in 
the  sock. 

"Yes,  but  I  don't  think  I  ever  listened  very  care- 
fully," admitted  Miss  Wingate  with  a  smile. 

"Well,  I  felt  that  if  the  Lord  had  gave  it  to  me 
to  stand  up  there  and  say  a  word  of  start-off  to  all 
them  boys  setting  solemn  and  listening,  it  wouldn't 
have  been  about  no  combination  of  things  done  by 
men  dead  and  gone,  that  didn't  seem  to  prove  noth- 
ing in  particular  on  nobody.  I  woulder  read  'em  a 
line  of  scripture  and  then  talked  honest  dealing  by 
one  another,  the  measuring  out  of  work  according 
to  the  pay  and  always  a  little  over,  the  putting  of  a 
shoulder  under  another  man's  pressing  burden,  the 

66 


THE   PEONY-GIRL 

respect  of  women  folks,  the  respect  of  theyselves 
and  the  looking  to  the  Lord  to  see  'em  through  it 
all.  That  speech  made  me  so  mad  I  'most  forgot  it 
was  time  for  Tom's  valediction.  Honey-bird,  I 
wisht  you  coulder  seen  him  and  heard  him." 

"I  wish  I  could,"  answered  Miss  Wingate  with  a 
flush. 

"Dearie  me,  but  he  was  handsome  and  he  spoke 
words  of  sense  that  the  other  gray-haired  man 
seemed  to  have  forgot!  And  they  was  a  farewell 
sadness  in  it  too,  what  got  some  of  them  boys'  faces 
to  working,  and  I  felt  a  big  tear  roll  down  and 
splash  right  on  the  lace  collar.  Then  he  sat  down 
and  they  was  a  to-do  of  hollering  and  clapping,  but 
I  just  sat  there  too  happy  to  take  in  the  rest  of  what 
was  did.  Sometimes  they  is  a  kinder  pride  swell 
in  a  mother's  heart  that  rises  right  up  and  talks  to 
her  soul  in  psalm  words,  and  I  heard  mine  that  day." 
Mother's  eyes  softened  and  looked  far  away  across 
to  the  blue  hills. 

"What  did  he  do  when  he  saw  you?"  asked  Miss 
Wingate  gently. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  pay  much  attention  to  him  when  he 

67 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

come  up  to  me,  or  let  on  how  I  felt.  That  sweet  child 
next  to  me  had  done  found  out  I  was  his  mother, 
I  couldn't  help  telling  her.  And  then  she  had  sent 
for  her  father,  who  was  the  head  Dean  man,  and 
about  the  time  Tom  came  up,  he  was  there  shaking 
hands  with  me  and  telling  me  how  proud  the  whole 
University  was  of  Tom  and  about  the  great  scholar- 
ship for  him  to  go  to  New  York  to  study  he  had  got, 
and  that  he  must  go.  It  didn't  take  me  hardly  two 
seconds  to  think  a  mortgage  on  the  house  and  fifty 
acres,  the  cows  and  all,  so  I  answered  right  up  on 
time  that  go  he  should.  While  I  was  a-talking 
Tom  had  gave  the  bokay  from  Providence  to  the 
girl,  what  he  had  been  knowing  all  the  time  at  her 
father's  house.  And  she  had  her  nose  buried  in  one 
of  Mis'  Peavey's  pink  peonys,  a-blushing  as  pretty  as 
you  please  over  it  at  that  country  bumpkin  of  mine 
with  all  his  fine  manners.  That  Miss  Alford  is  one 
of  the  most  sweet  girls  you  ever  have  saw.  She 
and  me  have  been  friends  ever  since.  She  comes 
out  to  see  me  in  her  ottermobile  sometimes.  She 
ain't  down  to  the  City  now,  for  I  had  a  picture  card 
from  some  place  out  West  from  her,  but  when  she 

68 


THE    PEONY-GIRL 

comes  back  I'm  a-going  to  ask  her  to  come  up  and 
have  a  stay-a-week-in-the-house  party  for  you;  and 
she  can  bring  her  brother.     You  might  like  him. . 
The  four  of  you  can  have  some  nice  junketings  to-  ' 
gether.     Won't  that  be  fine?" 

"Y-e-s,"  answered  the  singer  lady  slowly,  "but 
I'm  afraid  I'm  not  able  now  to  interest  anybody,  and 
my  voice,  when  I  speak — I — I —  Will  it  be  soon?" 
Her  question  had  a  trace  of  positive  anxiety  in  it  and 
her  joy  was  most  evidently  forced. 

"Oh,  not  till  June  rose  time !  And  your  voice  now 
sounds  like  a  angel's  with  a  bad  cold.  I'll  tell  Tom 
about  it,  he'll  be  so  pleased.  Her  father  was  such 
a  friend  to  him  and  as  proud  of  him  now  as  can  be." 

"Did  Doctor  Mayberry  stay  in  the  City — after 
his  graduation?"  asked  Miss  Wingate,  a  trace  of 
anxiety  in  her  voice. 

"That  he  didn't !  He  come  on  home  with  me  that 
night,  got  into  his  overalls  and  begun  to  plow  for 
winter  wheat  by  sun-up  the  next  morning.  We 
made  a  good  crop  that  year  and  the  mortgage 
wasn't  but  a  few  hundred  dollars,  what  we  soon 
paid.  We've  been  going  up  ever  since.  Tom  re- 

69 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

minds  me  of  a  kite,  and  I  must  make  out  to  play  tail 
for  him  until  I  can  pick  him  out  a  wife." 

"Have  you  thought  of  anybody  in  particular?" 
asked  the  lovely  lady  without  raising  her  eyes  from 
her  work.  She  had  commenced  operations  on  the 
blue  sock  unnoticed  by  Mother,  who  was  taken  up 
in  the  unfolding  of  her  tale. 

"Not  yet,"  answered  she  cheerfully.  "I  mustn't 
hurry.  Marrying  ain't  no  one-day  summer  junket, 
but  a  year  round  march  and  the  woman  to  raise  the 
hymn  tune.  I  take  it  that  after  a  mother  have 
builded  up  a  man,  she  oughter  see  to  it  that  he's 
capped  off  fine  with  a  wife,  and  then  she  can  forget 
all  about  him.  I've  got  my  eyes  open  about  Tom  and 
I'm  going  to  begin  to  hunt  around  soon." 

"I  wonder  just  what  kind  of  a  wife  you — you 

will  select  for  him,"  murmured  Miss  Wingate  with 

her  eyes  still  on  the  sock,  which  she  was  industrious- 

'ly  sewing  up  into  a  tight  knot  on  the  left  side  of  the 

heel. 

"Well,  a  man  oughter  marry  mostly  for  good 
looks  and  gumption;  the  looks  to  keep  him  from 
knowing  when  the  gumption  is  being  used  on  him. 

70 


THE   PEONY-GIRL 

Tom's  so  say-nothing  and  shy  with  women  folks 
that  he  won't  be  no  hard  proposition  for  nobody. 
But  with  that  way  of  his'n  I'm  afraid  of  his  being 
spoiled  some.  I  have  to  be  real  stern  with  myself 
to  keep  from  being  foolish  over  him." 

"But  you  want  his  wife  to — to  love  him,  don't 
you?"  asked  Miss  Wingate,  as  she  raised  very  large 
and  frankly  questioning  eyes  to  Mother  Mayberry, 
who  was  snipping  loose  threads  from  her  completed 
task. 

"Oh  she'll  do  that  and  no  trouble!  But  a  man 
oughter  be  allowed  to  sense  his  wife  have  got  plenty 
of  love  and  affection  preserved,  only  he  don't  know 
where  she  keeps  the  jar  at.  As  I  say,  I  don't  want 
Tom  Mayberry  spoiled.  What  did  I  do  with  that 
other  sock?"  And  Mother  began  to  hunt  in  her 
darning  bag,  in  her  lap  and  on  the  floor. 

"Here  it  is,"  answered  Miss  Wingate  as  she 
blushed  guiltily.  "I — darned  it."  And  she  handed 
her  handiwork  over  to  Mother  Mayberry  with 
trepidation  in  voice  and  expression. 

"Well,  now,"  said  Mother,  as  she  inspected  the 
tight  little  wad  on  the  blue  heel.  "It  was  right 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

down  kind  of  you  to  turn  to  and  help  me  like  this, 
but,  honey-bird,  Tom  Mayberry  would  walk  like  a 
hop  toad  after  he'd  done  got  it  on.  You  have 
drawn  it  bad.  I  don't  know  no  better  time  to  learn 
you  how  to  darn  your  husband's  socks  than  right 
now  on  this  one  of  Tom's.  You  see  you  must  be- 
gin with  long  cross  stitches  in  the —  Now  what's  all 
this  a-coming!"  And  Mother  Mayberry  rose,  looked 
down  the  Road  and  hurried  to  the  sidewalk  with  the 
darning  bag  under  her  arm  and  her  thimble  still  on 
her  finger. 

Up  the  middle  of  the  Road  came,  in  a  body,  the 
entire  juvenile  population  of  Providence  at  a  break- 
neck speed  and  farther  down  the  street  they  were 
followed  by  Deacon  Bostick,  coming  as  fast  as  his 
feeble  old  legs  would  bring  him.  Eliza  Pike  headed 
the  party  with  Teether  hitched  high  up  on  her  arm 
and  Martin  Luther  clinging  to  her  short  blue  calico 
skirt.  They  all  drew  up  in  a  semicircle  in  front 
of  Mother  Mayberry  and  Miss  Wingate  and  looked 
at  Eliza  expectantly.  On  all  occasions  of  excite- 
ment Eliza  was  both  self-constituted  and  unani- 
mously appointed  spokesman.  On  this  occasion  she 

72 


THE    PEONY-GIRL 

began  in  the  dramatic  part  of  the  news  without  any 
sort  of  preamble. 

"It's  a  circus,"  she  said  breathlessly,  "a-moving 
over  from  Bolivar  to  Springfield  and  nelephants  and 
camels  and  roar-lions  and  tigers  and  Mis'  Pratt  and 
Deacon  and  Mr.  Hoover  and  everybody  is  a-going 
over  to  watch  it  pass — and  we  can't — we  can't!" 
Her  voice  broke  into  a  wail,  which  was  echoed  by  a 
sob  and  a  howl  from  across  the  street  just  inside  the 
Pike  gate,  where  Bud  and  Susie  pressed  their  for- 
lorn little  bodies  against  the  palings  and  looked  out 
on  the  world  with  the  despair  of  the  incarcerated  in 
their  eyes. 

"Why  can't  you?"  demanded  Mother. 

"Oh,  Maw  have  gone  across  the  Nob  to  Aunt 
Elviry's  and  left  Susie  May  and  Bud  being  pun- 
ished. They  can't  go  outen  the  gate  and  I  ain't  a- 
going  to  no  circus  with  my  little  brother  and  sister 
being  punished,  and  I  won't  let  Billy  and  Ez  go 
either."  By  this  time  the  whole  group  was  in 
different  stages  of  grief,  for  the  viewing  of  a  circus 
without  the  company  of  Eliza  Pike  had  the  flavor  of 
dead  sea  fruit  in  all  their  small  mouths.  From  the 

73 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

heart  in  Eliza's  small  bosom  radiated  the  force  that 
vivified  the  lives  of  the  whole  small-fry  congrega- 
tion, and  a  circus  not  seen  through  her  eyes  would 
be  but  a  dreary  vision. 

"Now  ain't  that  too  bad!"  said  Mother  Mayberry 
with  compassion  and  irritation  striving  in  her  voice. 
"What  did  they  do  and  just  what  did  she  say?" 

"Susie  hurted  Aunt  Prissy's  feelings,  by  taking  the 
last  biscuit  when  they  wasn't  one  left  for  her,  and 
Maw  said  she  would  have  to  stay  in  the  yard  until 
she  learned  to  be  kind  and  respectful  to  Paw's  sister. 
She  didn't  mean  to  be  bad."  And  Eliza  presented 
the  case  of  her  small  sister  with  hopelessness  in 
every  tone. 

"Well,  Susie,"  said  Mother  Mayberry,  "don't  you 
feel  kind  to  her  yet?"  There  was  a  note  of  hope 
in  Mother's  voice  that  silenced  all  the  wails,  and  they 
all  fixed  large  and  expectant  eyes  upon  this  friend 
who  never  failed  them.  By  this  time  the  Deacon 
had  joined  the  group  and  his  gentle  old  eyes  were 
also  fixed  on  Mother  Mayberry's  face,  with  the  same 
confident  hope  that  the  children's  expressed. 

"I've  done  been  kind  to  her,"  sniffed  the  culprit. 
74 


THE    PEONY-GIRL 

"I  let  her  cut  all  my  finger-nails  and  wash  my  ears 
and  never  said  a  word.  She  have  been  working 
on  me  all  afternoon  and  it  hurt." 

"Susie,"  said  Mother  Mayberry,  "you  can  go  over 
to  the  cross-roads  and  see  that  circus  with  the  Dea- 
con. They  can't  no  little  girl  do  better  than  that, 
and  your  Maw  just  told  you  to  stay  until  you  learned 
that  lesson.  You  are  let  out!  Now,  what  did  you 
do,  Bud?" 

"I  slid  on  the  lean-to  and  tored  all  the  back  of 
my  britches  out.  She  couldn't  stop  to  mend  'em 
and  she  said  I  could  just  stay  front  ways  to  folks 
until  she  come  home,  and  they  shouldn't  nobody 
mend  'em  for  me."  Bud  choked  with  grief  and 
mortification  and  edged  back  as  little  Bettie  Pratt 
started  in  his  direction  on  an  investigating  tour. 

"Well  course,  Bud,"  said  Mother  with  judicial 
eye,  "you  can't  take  them  britches  off."  She  paused 
and  looked  at  him  thoughtfully. 

"I  ain't  a-going  a  step  without  him,"  reiterated 
the  loyal  Eliza,  and  the  rest  of  the  children's  faces 
fell. 

"Too  bad,"  murmured  the  Deacon,  and  Miss  Win- 

75 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

gate  could  see  that  his  distress  at  the  plight  of 
young  Bud  was  as  genuine  as  that  of  any  of  the  rest. 

"But,"  began  Mother  Mayberry  slowly,  having  in 
the  last  second  weighed  the  matter  and  made  a  de- 
cision, "your  mother  ain't  said  you  couldn't  go  out- 
en  the  yard  and  she  ain't  said  I  couldn't  wrap  you 
tip  in  one  of  my  kitchen  aprons.  That  wouldn't  be 
the  same  as  changing  the  britches.  She  didn't 
know  about  this  circus  and  if  she  was  here  you 
all  know  she  woulder  done  as  I  asked  her  to  do  about 
Bud,  so  he  ain't  a-disobeying  her  and  I  ain't  neither. 
Run  get  the  apron  hanging  behind  the  door,  Susie, 
and  I'll  fix  him." 

"Sister  Mayberry,"  said  the  Deacon  with  a  de- 
lighted smile  in  his  kind  eyes,  but  a  twinkle  in  their 
corners,  "your  decision  involves  the  interpretation 
of  both  the  letter  and  the  spirit  of  the  law.  I  am 
glad  it,  in  this  case,  rested  with  you." 

"Well,"  answered  Mother  Mayberry,  as  she  took 
the  apron  from  Susie  and  started  across  the  Road  on 
her  rescue  mission,  "a  woman  have  got  to  cut  her 
conscience  kinder  bias  in  the  dealing  with  children. 
If  they're  stuffed  full  of  food  and  kindness  they  will 

76 


THE    PEONY-GIRL 

mostly  forget  to  be  bad,  and  oughtent  to  be  made  to 
remember  they  can  be  by  being  punished  too  long. 
Now,  sonny,  I'll  get  you  fixed  up  so  stylish  with 
these  pins  and  this  apron  that  the  circus  will  want 
to  carry  you  off.  Start  on,  Deacon,  he's  a-coming." 

"I've  got  to  get  the  baby's  bonnet,"  said  Eliza  as 
the  whole  party  started  away  in  a  trail  after  the 
Deacon,  who  led  Martin  Luther  by  one  hand  and 
little  Bettie  by  the  other.  Over  by  the  store  they 
could  see  Mrs.  Pratt  waiting  to  marshal  the  forces 
on  down  the  Road  and  Mr.  Hoover  stood  ready  as 
outstanding  escort.  He  had  brought  the  news  of 
the  passing  of  the  circus  train  and  she  had  promptly 
consented  to  taking  the  children  and  the  Deacon 
over  for  a  view. 

"Please,  Eliza,  please  don't  take  the  baby!  Leave 
him  with  me,"  said  Miss  Wingate  and  as  she  spoke 
she  stretched  out  her  arms  to  Teether.  Teether 
was  looking  worn  with  the  excitement  of  the  day 
and  his  sympathetic  friend  felt  the  journey  would 
be  too  much  for  him.  He  smiled  and  fell  over  on 
her  shoulder  with  a  sigh  of  contentment. 

"Don't  you  think  he  oughter  see  them  nelephants 
77 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

and  things?"  asked  Eliza  doubtfully,  her  loyalty  to 
Teether  warring  with  the  relief  of  having  him  out 
of  her  thin  little  arms  for  the  journey. 

"He  won't  mind.  Let  me  keep  him  here  on  the 
front  porch  until  you  come  back.  Now  run  along 
and  have  a  good  time,"  and  Miss  Wingate  started 
up  the  front  walk,  as  Eliza  darted  away  to  join  the 
others. 

"I  do  declare,"  said  Mother  Mayberry,  as  she 
watched  the  expedition  wend  its  way  down  the  white 
Road  in  the  direction  of  the  Bolivar  pike,  "the  way 
the  Deacon  do  love  the  children  is  plumb  beautiful, 
and  sad  some  too.  I  don't  know  what  he  would  do 
without  'em  or  they  without  him.  Seeing  'em  to- 
gether reminds  me  of  that  scraggy,  old  snowball 
bush  in  full  bloom,  leaning  down  to  the  little  Stars  of 
Bethlehem  reaching  up  to  it.  What  that  good  man 
have  been  to  me  only  my  Heavenly  Father  can  know 
and  Tom  Mayberry  suspicion.  I  tell  you  what  I 
think  I'll  do ;  I'll  take  one  of  them  little  pans  of  rolls 
what  Cindy  have  baked  for  supper,  with  a  jar  of 
peach  preserves,  and  go  down  and  set  with  Mis' 
Bostick  while  the  Deacon  are  gone.  We  can  run  the 

78 


THE    PEONY-GIRL 

pan  of  rolls  in  to  get  hot  for  him  when  he  comes 
home  and  I  know  he  likes  the  preserves.  I  want 
to  stop  in  to  see  Mis'  Tutt  too  and  give  her  a  little 
advice  about  that  taking  so  much  blue-mass.  I 
don't  see  how  anybody  with  a  bad  liver  can  have 
any  religion  at  all,  much  less  a  second  blessing.  I 
know  the  Squire  have  his  faults,  but  others  has 
failings  too.  And,  too,  I'll  have  to  stop  in  and  pacify 
Miss  Prissy  about  turning  the  children  loose,  before 
I  go  down  the  Road." 

"Miss  Prissy  always  seems  to  be  getting  the  chil- 
dren into  trouble.  I  wonder  why,"  said  the  singer 
lady  with  a  shade  of  resentment  in  her  voice.  The 
little  Pikes  had  established  themselves  firmly  in  the 
heart  of  this  new  friend,  and  she  found  herself  in 
an  attitude  of  critical  partisanship. 

"I  reckon  Miss  Prissy  is  what  you  call  a  kinder 
crank,"  answered  Mother  Mayberry  as  she  paused 
at  the  foot  of  the  steps.  "A  married  woman  have 
got  to  be  the  hub  of  a  family- wheel,  but  a  old  maid 
can  be  the  outside  crank  that  turns  the  whole  con- 
traption backwards  if  she  has  a  mind  to.  I  wish 
Miss  Prissy  had  a  little  more  understanding  of  the 

79 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

children,  'cause  the  rub  all  comes  on  Mis'  Pike,  and 
she's  fair  wore  out  with  it.  But  I  must  be  a-going 
so  as  to  be  the  sooner  a-coming.  I  wisht  you  would 
tell  Tom  Mayberry  to  go  and  let  you  help  him  put 
the  hens  and  little  chickens  to  bed.  Feed  'em  two 
quarts  of  millet  seed,  and  you  both  know  how  to 
do  it  right  if  you  have  a  mind  to.  I'm  going  to 
compliment  you  by  a-trusting  you  this  once,  and 
don't  let  me  wish  I  hadn't!  I'll  be  back  in  the 
course  of  time." 

And  so  it  happened  that  as  Doctor  Mayberry  was 
in  the  act  of  swinging  his  microscope  over  a  partic- 
ularly absorbing  new  plate,  a  very  lovely  vision 
framed  itself  in  his  office  door  against  the  back- 
ground of  Harpeth  Hill,  which  was  composed  of 
the  slim  singer  girl  with  the  baby  nodding  over  her 
shoulder.  The  unexpectedness  of  the  visit  sent  the 
color  up  under  his  tan  and  brought  him  to  his  feet 
with  a  delighted  smile. 

"I  don't  know  how  you  are  going  to  feel  about 
it,  but  I  bring  the  news  of  an  honor  which  we  are 
to  share.  Do  you  suppose,  do  you,  that  we  can  put 
the  chickens  to  bed  for  Mrs.  Mayberry?  She  says 

80 


THE   PEONY-GIRL 

we  are  to  try,  and  if  we  don't  do  it  the  right  way  she 
is  never  going  to  compliment  us  with  her  confidence 
again.  Help,  please!  I'm  weighted  down  by  the 
responsibility."  And  as  she  spoke  Miss  Wingate's 
eyes  shone  across  Teether's  bobbing  head  with  de- 
lighted merriment. 

"Well,  let's  try,"  answered  the  Doctor  with  the 
air  of  being  ready  to  do  or  dare,  an  attitude  which 
a  vision  such  as  his  eyes  rested  upon  is  apt  to  in- 
cite in  any  man  thus  challenged.  "Will  you  take 
command?  I'm  many  times  proved  incompetent  on 
such  occasions,  and  I  feel  sure  Mother  trusted  to 
your  generalship."  And  together  they  went  through 
the  garden  and  over  into  the  chicken  yard. 

"Now,"  said  Miss  Wingate,  "I  think  the  thing 
to  do  is  not  to  let  them  know  we  are  afraid  of  them. 
Let's  just  take  their  going  under  the  coops  as  a 
matter  of  course,  and  then,  perhaps,  they  will  go 
without  any  remonstrance." 

"Sort  of  a  mental  influence  dodge,"  answered  the 
Doctor  enthusiastically.  "Let's  try  it  on  Spangles 
first.  I  somehow  feel  that  she  will  be  more  impres- 
sionable than  Old  Dominick.  You  influence  while 

81 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

I  spread  the  millet  seed  in  front  of  her  coop."  And 
he  bent  down  in  front  of  the  half  barrel  and  care- 
fully laid  a  tempting  evening  meal,  with  his  eye 
on  Fuss-and-Feathers.  Spangles  hesitated,  stood  on 
one  foot,  clucked  in  an  affected  tone  of  voice  to 
her  huddling  babies  and  coquettishly  turned  her 
head  from  one  side  to  the  other  as  if  enthusing  over 
his  artistic  service  before  accepting  his  hospitality. 
Then,  just  as  she  was  poising  one  dainty  foot  ready 
for  the  first  step  in  advance,  and  had  sounded  a  for- 
ward note  to  the  cheepers  around  her,  Old  Domi- 
nick  calmly  stalked  forward,  stepped  right  across 
the  Doctor's  coaxing  hand  held  out  to  Spangles, 
and,  settling  herself  in  the  coop,  began,  with  her 
voracious  band  of  little  plebeians,  to  devour  the 
grain  with  stolid  appreciation. 

Miss  Wingate  laughed  merrily,  Teether  Pike  gur- 
gled and  the  Doctor  looked  up  with  baffled  aston- 
ishment. 

"That  was  your  fault,"  he  accused;  "you  influ- 
enced Dominick  while  I  was  expending  my  force  in 
beguiling  Spangles.  Now,  you  try  to  get  her  in 
the  next  coop  yourself.  I  shan't  help  you  further 

82 


THE    PEONY-GIRL 

than  to  spread  the  grain  in  front  of  all  the  coops." 
And  in  accordance  with  his  threat  the  Doctor  dis- 
posed of  the  rest  of  the  food  and  stood  with  the 
empty  pan  in  his  hand.  And,  like  the  well-trained 
flock  of  biddies  that  they  were,  all  the  rest  of  the  hen 
mothers  clucked  and  cajoled  their  fluffy  little  fami- 
lies into  their  accustomed  shelters  and  began  to  dis- 
pose, of  their  suppers  with  contented  clucks  and 
cheeps.  Only  Mrs.  Spangles  stood  afar  and  eyed 
the  only  vacant  coop  with  evident  disdain. 

"I  don't  know  what  to  do,"  murmured  Miss  Win- 
gate  pleadingly.  But  the  Doctor  stood  firm,  and 
regarded  her  with  maliciously  delighted  eyes. 
Teether  bobbed  his  head  over  her  shoulder  and  gig- 
gled with  ungrateful  delight.  The  poor  little  chicks 
peeped  sleepily,  but  still  Spangles  held  her  ground. 
The  truth  of  the  matter  was  that  Dominick  had 
really  taken  the  coop  usually  occupied  by  her  lady- 
ship, and  with  worldly  determination,  the  scion  of 
all  the  Wyandottes  was  holding  out  against  the  ex- 
change. 

With  a  glance  out  of  the  side  of  her  eyes  from 
tinder  her  lowered  lashes  in  the  direction  of  Doctor 

83 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

Mayberry  in  his  stern  attitude,  the  singer  lady  cau- 
tiously veered  around  to  the  rear  of  the  insulted 
grandee,  and,  grasping  her  fluffy  skirts  in  her  free 
hand,  she  shook  them  out  with  a  pleading  "Shoo !" 

Instantly  a  perfect  whirlwind  of  spangled  feath- 
ers veered  around  and  faced  the  cascade  of  frills, 
and  a  volume  of  defiant  hisses  fairly  filled  the  air. 
Teether  squealed  and  Miss  Wingate  retreated  to 
the  bounds  of  the  fence.  The  Doctor  laughed  in 
the  most  heartless  manner,  and  still  Spangles  held 
her  ground. 

To  make  matters  worse,  Mother  Mayberry' s  jo- 
vial voice,  mingled  with  the  shrill  treble  of  the 
combined  circus  party,  who  were  trying  all  at  once 
to  tell  her  the  wonders  of  the  adventure,  could  be 
distinctly  heard  in  an  increasing  volume  that  told 
of  their  rapid  approach.  The  situation  was  des- 
perate, and  the  loss  of  Mother  Mayberry' s  faith  in 
her  seemed  inevitable  to  the  nonplussed  singer  lady 
as  she  leaned  against  the  fence  with  Teether  over 
her  shoulder.  Then  the  instinct  that  is  centuries  old 
presented  to  her  the  wile  that  is  of  equal  antiquity 
and,  raising  her  purple  eyes  to  the  defenseless  Doc- 

84 


THE    PEONY-GIRL 

tor,  she  murmured  in  a  voice  of  utter  helplessness, 
into  which  was  judiciously  mingled  a  tone  of  per- 
fect confidence: 

"Please,  sir,  get  her  in  for  me." 

The  response  to  which,  being  foreordained  from 
the  beginning  of  time,  took  Doctor  Mayberry  just 
one  exciting  half-minute  grab  and  shove  to  accom- 
plish, at  the  end  of  which  a  ruffled  but  chastened 
Spangles  was  forced  to  assemble  her  family  and  con- 
tent herself  behind  the  bars  of  the  despised  coop. 

"Well,"  said  Mother  Mayberry  as  she  hurried 
around  the  corner  of  the  house  with  the  depleted 
and  milk-hungry  Martin  Luther  trailing  at  her 
skirts,  "did  you  make  out  to  manage  'em?  Why, 
ain't  that  fine;  every  one  in  and  settled  and  Fuss- 
and-Feathers  in  that  end  coop  where  I  have  been 
wanting  her  to  be  for  a  week,  seeing  Dominick  have 
got  so  many  more  chickens  and  needs  that  larger 
barrel.  I  didn't  depend  on  Tom  Mayberry,  but  I 
did  on  you,  Elinory.  This  just  goes  to  show  that 
if  you  put  a  little  trust  in  people  they  are  mighty 
apt  to  rise  in  the  pan  to  a  occasion.  You  all  look 
like  you've  been  having  a  real  good  time!" 

85 


CHAPTER  IV 

LOVE,    THE    CURE-ALL 

EAT  milk,  thank  ma'am,  please,  Mother  Lady," 
demanded  Martin  Luther  as  he  stood  on  the 
top  step  in  front  of  Mother  Mayberry,  who,  with 
Miss  Wingate  beside  her,  sat  sewing  away  the  early 
hours  of  the  morning.  A  tiny  blue-check  shirt 
was  taking  shape  under  Mother's  skilful  fingers, 
and  the  singer  lady  was  deep  in  the  mysteries  of 
the  fore  and  aft  of  a  minute  pair  of  jeans  trousers. 
The  limitations  of  young  Ez's  wardrobe  had  neces- 
sitated the  speedy  construction  of  one  for  the  little 
adopt,  and  Miss  Wingate's  education  along  the 
lines  of  needle  control  was  progressing  at  what  she 
considered  a  remarkable  rate. 

"Why,  Martin  Luther!"  She  looked  down  at 
him  over  a  carefully  poised  needle.  "How  can  you 
be  hungry  when  you  ate  your  breakfast  not  two 
hours  ago?"  she  added  with  the  intent  to  beguile 
him  from  his  demand. 

86 


LOVE,  THE    CURE-ALL 

"All  gone,  thank  ma'am,  please,"  he  answered, 
looking  out  from  under  his  curl  with  a  pathetic  cast 
of  his  blue  eyes,  and  at  the  same  time  spreading  Doth 
hands  over  his  entire  vital  region. 

"I  reckon  maybe  we'd  better  fill  him  up  again," 
said  Mother.  "Them  legs  still  look  'most  too  much 
like  knitting-needles  to  suit  me,  and  I  kinder  want 
to  feel  him  to  be  sure  his  stomick  haven't  grovved 
to  his  backbone.  Anyway,  you  can't  never  measure 
a  boy's  food  by  his  size.  Please  run  and  get  him 
a  glass  of  buttermilk  and  a  biscuit,  child,  while  I 
finish  setting  in  this  sleeve.  Let  me  see  them  britches 
legs  'fore  you  put  'em  down.  Dearie  me,  if  you 
ain't  gone  and  made  'em  both  for  the  same  legl 
Too  bad,  with  all  them  pretty  baste-stitches !" 

"Oh!"  gasped  Miss  Wingate  in  dismay;  "have  I 
ruined  them?" 

"No,  indeed,  just  turn  the  left  leg  inside  out  and 
hem  it  up  again — or  you  might  make  two  more 
right  legs  to  sew  on  to  these.  It  would  be  a  good 
thing  to  double  one  failing  mistake  up  into  two 
successes,  wouldn't  it?  Often  bad  luck  turned  in- 
side out  makes  a  cap  that  fits  plumb  easy.  While 

87 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

you  fill  the  boy  up,  I'll  cut  out  his  other  legs  for 
you  to  baste  right  this  time.  Take  a  peep  around 
the  garden  before  you  come  back  to  see  if  Spangles 
have  got  her  chickens  in  the  wet  weeds.  I  hadn't 
oughter  let  her  pretty  feathers  make  me  distrust 
her,  but  it  do."  And  Mother  went  placidly  on  with 
her  sewing  as  she  watched  the  girl  and  the  tot  go 
hand-in-hand  down  the  path  to  the  spring-house 
under  the  hill.  She  had  just  placed  in  her  sleeve 
and  was  regarding  it  with  entire  satisfaction,  when 
the  front  gate  clicked  and  she  looked  up  with  in- 
terest. 

"Well,  good  morning,  Mis'  Mayberry,"  came  in 
Bettie  Pratt's  hearty  voice  as  she  swung  up  the 
walk  at  a  brisk  pace.  On  one  arm  she  held  a  bob- 
bing baby  in  a  white  sunbonnet,  a  toddler  clung  to 
her  skirts  and  a  small  boy  trailed  behind  her  with 
a  puppy  in  his  arms.  She  was  buxom  and  rosy,  was 
the  Widow  Pratt,  with  a  dangerous  dimple  over  the 
corner  of  her  mouth,  a  decided  come-hither  in  her 
blue  eyes,  and  a  smile  that  compelled  a  response. 

"Why,  Bettie  child,  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you!" 
exclaimed  Mother,  rendering  the  smile  from  out 

88 


LOVE,  THE   CURE-ALL 

over  her  glasses.  "I  didn't  see  you  all  day  yester- 
day and  not  the  day  before,  neither.  But  I  put  it 
down  to  a  work-hold  on  us  both,  and  didn't  worry 
none.  And  now  here  you  are,  with  some  of  the 
little  folks !  Here's  a  empty  spool  for  little  Bettie," 
and  she  held  out  the  treasure  to  the  toddler,  who 
sidled  up  to  her  knee  with  confidence  to  grasp  the 
gift. 

"I  told  Pattie  Hoover  if  she  would  stay  at  home 
this  morning  and  clean  up  some  like  her  Pa  wants 
her  to  that  I'd  let  my  Clara  May  help  her  and 
would  bring  the  baby  on  up  here  to  get  him  outen 
the  way.  'Lias  come  along  to  get  you  to  look  at 
his  puppy's  foot,  and  I  want  you  to  see  if  you  don't 
think  the  baby  have  fatted  some  since  I've  took 
holt  and  helped  Pattie  with  the  feeding  of  him." 

"He  have  that,"  answered  Mother  heartily.  "I 
can  tell  it  without  even  feeling  of  his  legs.  You've 
got  the  growing  hand  with  babies,  Bettie,  and  I'm 
glad  you  don't  hold  it  back  from  this  little  half- 
orphant.  I  don't  know  what  the  poor  little  Hoovers 
would  do  without  you !" 

"That's  what  poor  Mr.  Hoover  says,"  answered 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

Bettie   with  the  utmost   unconsciousness.     "Show 
Mis'  Mayberry  the  puppy's  foot,  'Lias." 

"Why,  the  pitiful  little  thing!"  exclaimed  Mother 
when  a  small,  brown,  crushed  paw  was  presented 
to  her  inspection.  "What  happened  to  it?" 

"Mr.  Petway's  horse  stepped  on  it — he  didn't 
care.  He  just  got  in  the  buggy  and  went  on.  I'm 
a-going  to  kill  him  with  a  gun  when  I  get  one." 
Tears  of  rage  and  grief  welled  up  in  'Lias'  eyes, 
but  he  choked  them  back  with  a  resolution  that 
boded  ill  for  Mr.  Petway  when  the  time  of  reckon- 
ing came. 

"You  mustn't  talk  that  way,  'Lias,  though  it  are 
a  shame,"  said  Mother  as  she  looked  closely  at  the 
injured  paw.  "The  bone's  all  crushed.  I'll  tell 
you  what  to  do;  just  take  him  around  to  Doctor 
Tom's  office  and  he'll  fix  it  in  no  time  for  you,  in  a 
way  I  couldn't  never  do.  He  won't  even  limp,  may- 
be." And  Mother  Mayberry  made  the  offer  of  a 
piece  of  skilled  surgery  with  the  utmost  generosity. 

'Lias  clasped  the  puppy  closer,  looked  down  and 
drew  one  of  his  bare  toes  along  a  crack  in  the  floor. 
"I'd  rather  you'd  do  it,"  he  said. 

90 


LOVE,    THE   CURE-ALL 

"Now,  don't  that  just  beat  all !''  exclaimed  Moth- 
er with  both  amusement  and  exasperation  in  her 
face.  "Looks  like  I  can't  even  get  Tom  a  puppy 
practice." 

"Why,  'Lias  Hoover,  I'm  ashamed  of  you  not  to 
want  Doctor  Tom  to  fix  his  foot,  and  thank  you,  too  1 
Didn't  Bud  Pike  tell  you  last  night  how  he  cut  his 
little  brother's  mouth  and  didn't  hurt  him  a  bit, 
neither?  Bud  is  going  to  get  him  to  fix  his  next 
stubbed  toe  hisself.  Bud  ain't  no  bigger  boy  than 
you,  but  he  knows  a  good  doctor  same  as  Mis'  May- 
berry  and  me  does  when  he  sees  one."  There  are 
ways  and  ways  of  controverting  masculine  obsti- 
nancy,  and  evidently  life  had  taught  Mrs.  Pratt 
the  efficacy  of  beguilement.  Without  more  reluc- 
tance 'Lias  disappeared  around  the  house  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  office  wing. 

"I'm  mighty  glad  you  come  along  this  morning,. 
Bettie,"  said  Mother  Mayberry,  as  she  threaded  a 
new  needle  "with  a  long  thread.  Little  Bettie  had 
seated  herself  on  the  floor  and  begun  operations 
with  the  spool  and  a  piece  of  string  that  vastly 
amused  little  Hoover,  whom  Mrs.  Pratt  deposited 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

opposite  her  within  reach  of  her  own  balancing  foot, 
for  the  baby's  age  and  backbone  were  both  at  a  ten- 
der period.  "I've  got  a  kinder  worry  on  my  mind 
that  I'd  like  to  get  a  little  help  from  you  as  to  know 
what  to  do  about.  Have  you  noticed  that  both  the 
Deacon  and  Mis'  Bostick  look  mighty  peaky? 
Course  Deacon  have  been  sick,  and  she  have  had 
a  spell  of  nursing,  but  they  don't  neither  of  them 
pick  up  like  they  oughter.  Mis'  Bostick  puts  me  in 
mind  of  a  little,  withered-up,  gray  seed  pod  when 
all  the  down  have  bio  wed  away,  and  the  Deacon's 
britches  fair  flap  around  his  poor  thin  shanks.  Some- 
thing or  other  just  makes  me  sense  what  is  the  mat- 
ter." 

"And  me,  too,  Mis'  Mayberry.  I've  been  a-feel- 
ing  of  it  for  some  time,  since  we  all  quit  out  with 
the  nursing  and  taking  'em  complimentary  dishes 
of  truck.  They  is — is  hungry."  Mrs.  Pratt  brought 
out  the  statement  of  the  fact  in  a  positively  awe- 
struck voice. 

"That's  what  I'm  afraid  it  is,  Bettie,"  answered 
Mother,  "and  it  hurts  me  hard  to  think  how  he  have 
served  the  Lord  and  helped  us  all  in  our  duty  to 

92 


LOVE,    THE   CURE-ALL 

Him  and  each  other,  she  a-giving  us  of  her  bounty 
of  sister-love,  and  now,  when  they's  old  and  feeble, 
a-feeling  the  pinch  of  need.  The  young  can  reach 
out  and  help  they  selves  to  they  share  of  life,  but  it 
oughter  be  handed  old  folks  with  thoughtful  re- 
spect. We've  got  to  do  something  about  it." 

"Course  we  have,"  assented  the  widow  heartily. 
"But  how  are  we  a-going  to  just  give  'em  things 
off  en  a  cold  collar?  They're  both  so  proud.  With 
owning  the  house,  the  bit  the  church  gives  'em 
would  do  the  rest,  but  the  Deacon  have  tooken  that 
debt  no-'count  Will  Bostick  run  off  and  left  down 
in  the  City  to  pay,  and  it  have  left  'em  at  starva- 
tion's door.  But  that's  neither  here  nor  there; 
we've  got  to  do  something.  They  don't  need  much 
but  food,  and  Mis'  Bostick  is  most  too  weak  now  to 
cook  it  if  they  has  the  ingredients  gave  'em  to 
hand.  They  must  be  did  for  some  way." 

"And  we've  got  to  do  it  without  a-giving  them  a 
single  hurt  feeling,  either,"  said  Mother.  "Enough 
good-will  jelly  will  hide  any  kind  of  charity  pill, 
I  say.  Not  as  what  we  do  for  her  and  the  Deacon 
can  ever  be  anything  but  thanks  rendered  for  the 

93 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

blessing  of  them.  But  you  get  to  thinking,  Bettie. 
The  knees  to  my  wits  are  getting  old  and  stiff." 

"Well,  there's  a  donation  party,"  suggested  the 
widow  thoughtfully.  "Everybody  could  help,  and 
it  could  be  made  real  pleasant  with  the  men  asked 
to  come  in  after  supper.  Everything  could  be  gave 
from  stovewood  to  the  Deacon  some  new  Sunday 
pants.  We  did  that  once  before,  five  years  ago  to 
his  birthday,  and  they  was  mighty  pleased.  Let's 
do  it  again." 

"But  that  was  before  this  disgrace  of  Will  hap- 
pened, and  they  didn't  downright  need  the  things 
then — it  were  all  sort  of  complimentary.  When 
needs  are  gave  it's  charity,  but  what  you  don't  want 
is  just  a  present.  We've  got  to  find  a  way  to  do  up 
needs  in  a  present  package  for  'em.  I  declare,  I 
feel  right  put  to  to  know  what  to  do."  Mother  May- 
berry's  voice  was  actually  worried,  and  she  paused 
with  her  scissors  ready  to  snip  a  bit  of  the  gingham 
into  narrow  bands. 

"Well,  we  oughter  be  thankful  we've  got  the 
things  to  give,  and  we'll  find  some  sort  of  way  to 
slip  up  on  the  blind  side  of  them  about  the  taking 

94 


LOVE,   THE   CURE-ALL 

of  them.  The  Deacon's  britches  is  one  pressing 
thing.  Can't  we  take  some  of  the  church  carpet 
money  and  get  Mr.  Hoover  to  buy  him  a  pair  when 
he  hauls  corn  to  town  Monday  ?" 

"Yes,  indeed,  we  can,"  answered  Mother  May- 
berry,  radiant  at  the  very  thought  of  this  relief 
proposition.  "It's  a  heap  more  important  to  carpet 
the  Deacon  with  britches  than  the  church  floor  right 
now.  Between  them  and  her  old  bombersine,  Mis' 
Bostick  have  spent  the  year  with  her  patch-thimble 
on  her  finger." 

"I  declare,  it  hurts  me  so  in  church  to  look  at 
her  elbows  and  back  seams  that  I  can't  hardly  listen 
to  the  Deacon  pray.  Patching  is  the  most  worri- 
some job  a  woman  has  to  do,  according  to  my 
mind,"  said  the  widow,  with  an  expression  of  dis- 
taste on  her  beaming  face.  "I've  done  patched  two 
men,  and  I  know  what  I'm  talking  about." 

"It  is  a  trial,"  answered  Mother  Mayberry,  "and 
Mis'  Bostick's  life  have  been  a  patched  one  at  the 
best,  a-moving  in  the  Methodist  wagon  from  one 
station  to  another  and  a-trying  every  time  to  cut 
herself  out  by  a  new  style  to  suit  each  congregation. 

95 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

Anyway,  I  reckon  all  women's  lives  have  wored 
thin  and  had  to  be  darned  in  some  places,  but 
patches  on  her  garment  of  life  ain't  going  to  make 
no  difference  to  a  woman  when  she  puts  it  on  to 
meet  her  Lord,  just  so  it's  cut  on  the  charity  mantle 
pattern.  And  Mis'  Bostick's  was  hung  to  cover  the 
multitude.  But  a-talking  here  have  made  me  sprout 
a  idea:  'Liza  Pike  have  blazed  the  trail  for  us, 
bless  her  little  heart !  Her  mother  don't  never  cook 
a  single  thing  that  'Liza  haven't  got  a  dish  handy 
to  beg  some  for  the  Deacon  and  Mis'  Bostick.  And 
she  don't  stop  at  her  own  cook  stove,  but  she's  al- 
ways here  looking  into  what  Cindy  cooks  with  an 
eye  to  the  old  folk's  sweet-tooths  or  chicken-hank- 
ers. I  know,  too,  she  gets  what  she  wants  from  you 
for  them,  so  there  is  our  leading.  The  Deacon 
loves  'Liza,  and  she  is  such  a  entertainment  to  him 
that  he'd  eat  ten  meals  a  day  at  her  dictation  and 
no  questions  asked.  And  she  do  beat  all  with  her 
mothering  ways  with  them  old  folks.  Last  Wednes- 
day night  she  had  Deacon  a-leading  prayer  meet- 
ing with  a  red  flannel  band  around  his  throat  for  his 
croaks,  and  just  yesterday  she  made  Mis'  Bostick 

96 


LOVE,   THE   CURE-ALL 

stay  in  bed  half  the  day,  covered  up  head  and  ears, 
to  sweat  off  a  little  nose-dripping  cold.  She's  al- 
ways a-consulting  Tom  and  leaving  me  out.  I  think 
she's  got  her  eye  on  my  practice.  They  never  was 
such  a  master-hand  of  a  child  in  Providence  before." 

"There  you  are  right,"  laughed  the  widow.  "It's 
getting  so  that  they  ain't  a  child  on  the  Road  as 
will  let  its  own  mother  look  at  a  cut  finger  or  a 
black  bruise  'fore  'Liza  have  done  had  her  say 
about  what  is  to  be  did.  I  believe  it  is  as  you  say, 
Mis'  Mayberry,  and  'Liza  can  play  raven  for  us  in 
fine  style.  I  know  Mis'  Pike  will  push  it  on  and 
more'n  do  her  part  in  the  filling  of  the  child's  cov- 
ered dish." 

"That  she  will,"  answered  Mother  Mayberry 
heartily.  "Judy  Pike  spends  a  heap  of  time  turning 
over  life  to  find  for  certain  which  is  the  right  and 
wrong  of  it,  but  once  found,  she  sticks  close  to  the 
top  weave.  We'll  plan  it  all  out  at  the  Sewing  Cir- 
cle, and  then  get  it  down  to  days  who's  to  send 
what  regular.  I'm  thankful  for  this  leading  of 
how  to  take  care  of  our  old  folks,  and  I  know  you 
are,  too/' 

97 


THE  ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

"Couldn't  nobody  be  thankfuller,"  answered  the 
rosy  widow,  "and  the  filling  of  that  dish  is  a-going 
to  give  me  a  lot  of  good  pride.  But  I'd  better  be 
going  and  seeing  after  them  girls  and  the  house 
cleaning.  They  are  both  master  hands,  but  if  Buck 
Peavey  was  to  happen  to  tie  hisself  up  to  the  front 
gate,  it  would  be  good-by  dust-pan  and  mop  for  Pat- 
tie.  Not  that  I  don't  feel  for  her  in  the  liking  of 
that  rampaging  boy  of  Mis'  Peavey' s,  and  it's 
mighty  hard  not  to  kinder  saunter  into  a  little  chat 
when  the  men  folks  call  you.  How  are  Miss  Eli- 
nory  to-day  ?  Ain't  she  the  prettiest  and  most  stylish- 
est  girl  you  have  ever  saw?  I  wonder  if  she  would 
lend  me  that  long-tailed  waist  she  wears  to  get  the 
pattern  off  to  make  me  and  Clara  May  and  Pattie 
one?"  As  she  spoke,  Mrs.  Pratt  rose,  picked  up 
little  Hoover  and  set  Bettie  on  her  little  bare  feet. 

"I  know  she  will  be  glad  to,  and  such  a  head 
sewer  as  you  are  can  copy  it  most  exact.  Here 
she  are  now!  Child,  Mis'  Pratt  have  been  so  com- 
plimenting of  your  looks  and  clothes  that  I'm  sorter 
set  up  with  pride  over  you." 

"Good  morning,  Mrs.  Pratt,"  exclaimed  the  singer 
98 


LOVE,   THE   CURE-ALL 

lady,  as  she  appeared  in  the  doorway  with  the  re- 
suscitated Martin  Luther  at  her  side.  "The  darling 
babies !  You  are  not  going,  are  you?"  The  widow 
and  Miss  Wingate  had  developed  a  decided  attrac- 
tion for  each  other,  and  their  blossoming  friendship 
delighted  Mother  Mayberry  most  obviously. 

"I  wish  I  didn't  have  to,"  answered  Mrs.  Pratt, 
beaming  with  smiles,  which  little  Bettie  echoed  as 
she  coquetted  around  her  mother's  skirts  with  Miss 
Wingate,  "but  it's  most  dinner-pot  time,  and  I've 
got  mouths  to  feed  when  the  horn  blows." 

"Elinory,  child,  run  get  that  pink,  long-tailed 
waist  of  your'n  to  let  Bettie  make  one  by,  please," 
said  Mother  Mayberry,  with  total  unconsciousness 
of  that  very  strong  feminine  predilection  for  exclu- 
siveness  of  design  in  wearing  apparel.  The  gar- 
ment in  question  was  a  very  lovely,  simply-cut  linen 
affair  that  bore  a  distinguished  foreign  trade-mark. 
"I  know  you  feel  complimented  by  her  wanting  to 
make  one  for  herself  by  it,  and  maybe  Clara  May 
and  Pattie,  too.  They  ain't  no  worldly  feeling  as 
good  as  having  your  clothes  admired,  is  they?" 

"Indeed  there  isn't,"  answered  Miss  Wingate 
99 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

cordially,  and  if  there  was  chagrin  in  her  heart  at 
the  thought  of  seeing  Providence  in  uniform  with 
the  precious  pink  blouse,  her  smile  belied  it.  She 
immediately  ascended  to  her  room,  and  returned 
quickly  with  the  treasure  in  her  hand.  "Let  me 
come  and  see  you  fit  them,"  she  entreated.  "I 
don't  know  how  to  sew  one,  but  I  can  tell  how  it 
ought  to  look." 

"Come  spend  the  day  next  Monday.  We'll  all 
have  a  good  time  together  and  I'll  make  you  some 
more  of  them  fritters  you  liked  for  supper  the 
other  night."  The  widow  fairly  beamed  like  a 
headlight  at  the  thought  of  the  successful  im- 
promptu supper  party  a  few  nights  before,  when 
Doctor  Mayberry  had  brought  Miss  Wingate  down 
upon  her  unexpectedly  with  a  demand  to  be  invited 
to  stay  to  supper  for  that  especial  dainty.  As  she 
spoke  she  was  half-way  down  the  walk,  and  looked 
back,  smiling  at  them  over  the  baby's  bonnet. 

"Yes,  I  heard  Tom  Mayberry  disgraced  himself 
over  your  maple  syrup  jug,  Bettie  Pratt,"  called 
Mother  Mayberry  after  her.  "That  Hoover  baby 
surely  have  growed.  Good-by!" 

100 


LOVE,    THE   CURE-ALL 

"They  ain't  nothing  in  this  world  so  comforting 
to  a  woman  as  good  feeling  with  her  sisters,  one  and 
all,"  Mother  Mayberry  said  as  she  watched  the  last 
switch  of  the  widow's  skirt.  "Mother,  wife  and 
daughter  love  is  a  institution,  but  real  sistering  is 
a  downright  covenant.  Me  and  Bettie  have  held 
one  betwixt  us  these  many  a  year.  But  you  and 
me  have  both  put  a  slight  on  the  kitchen  since  Cindy 
got  back.  Let's  go  see  if  dinner  ain't  most  on  the 
table." 

And  they  found  that  from  their  neglect  the  din- 
ner had  suffered  not  at  all.  Cindy,  a  gaunt,  black 
woman  with  a  fire  of  service  and  devotion  to  Mother 
Mayberry  in  her  eyes,  and  apparently  nothing  else 
to  excuse  existence,  had  accomplished  the  meal  as 
a  triumph. 

She  had  set  the  table  out  on  the  side  porch  under 
the  budding  honeysuckle,  and  as  Mother  Mayberry 
and  Miss  Wingate,  followed  by  Martin  Luther,  ever 
ready  to  do  trencher  duty,  came  out  of  the  back  hall 
Doctor  Tom  emerged  from  his  office  door. 

"Why,  I  didn't  see  you  come  in,  Tom,"  said 
Mother.  "You  muster  used  wings  and  lit." 

101 


THE  ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

"No,  I  came  from  across  the  fields  and  in  the 
back  way.  I've  had  a  patient  and  I'm  puffed  up 
with  pride."  As  he  spoke  he  smiled  at  Miss  Win- 
gate  and  his  mother  delightedly. 

"'Lias  Hoover's  puppy,"  said  Mother,  stating  the 
fact  to  Miss  Wingate.  "Was  you  able  to  fix  him 
up,  Tom?" 

"Oh,  yes;  his  puppyship  will  navigate  normally 
in  ten  days,  I  think ;  but  this  was  a  real  patient." 

"Why,  who,  son?  Don't  keep  me  waiting  to 
know,  for  I'm  worried  at  the  very  thought  of  a 
Providence  pain.  Who's  down  now  and  what  did 
you  do  for  'em?"  And  Mother  bestowed  upon  the 
young  doctor  a  glance  of  inter-professional  inquiry. 

"Squire  Tutt,"  answered  her  son  promptly.  "I 
met  him  up  by  the  store  and  he  asked  me  what  I 
would  do  if  a  man  had  a  snake  bite  out  in  the  woods, 
ten  miles  from  any  hot-water  kettle.  I  diagnosed 
the  situation  and  prescribed  with  the  help  of  Mr. 
Petway,  and  I  think — I  think,  Mother,  I've  prose- 
lyted your  patient." 

"Now,  Tom,  don't  make  fun  of  the  Squire. 
Them  are  real  pains  he  has,  and  I  don't  think  it  is 

1 02 


LOVE,    THE   CURE-ALL 

right  for  a  doctor  to  have  a  doubting  mind  towards 
a  patient.  Sympathy  will  help  worry  any  kinder 
bad  dose  down.  You  know  I  want  you  to  do  your 
doctoring  in  this  life  with  love  to  be  gave  to  help 
smooth  all  pain."  Mother  regarded  him  seriously 
over  her  glasses  as  she  admonished. 

"I  will — I  do,  Mother,"  answered  the  Doctor,  and 
his  gray  eyes  danced  before  he  veiled  them  with  his 
black  lashes  as  he  looked  down  at  his  plate. 

Miss  Wingate  flushed  ever  so  slightly  and  busied 
herself  with  spreading  butter  on  a  large  piece  of 
bread  for  Martin  Luther,  an  unnecessary  attention, 
as  she  had  performed  that  same  office  for  him  just 
the  moment  before,  and  even  he  had  not  been  able 
to  make  an  inroad  thereon. 

"I  think  you  are  right,  Mrs.  Mayberry,"  she  said 
slowly  after  a  second's  rally  of  her  forces.  "The 
sympathy  and — and  regard  of  one's  physician  is 
very  necessary  at  times  and — and — "  She  paused, 
but  not  so  much  as  a  glance  out  of  the  corner  of 
her  purple  black  eyes  did  she  throw  in  the  direction 
of  the  Doctor. 

"Course  they  ain't  nothing  so  encouraging  in  the 
103 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

world  as  love,  and  I  think  the  sick  oughter  have  it 
gave  to  'em  in  large  and  frequent  doses!  I'm 
thankful  I've  got  so  much  in  my  heart  that  I  can 
just  prescribe  it  liberal  when  needed.  Dearie  me, 
could  that  shadow  be  a  chicken-hawk?  Just  ex- 
cuse me,  children ;  finish  your  dinner  while  I  go  out 
and  look  after  my  feather  babies."  And  Mother 
hurried  away  through  the  kitchen,  leaving  the  singer 
lady  and  the  Doctor  sitting  at  the  table  under  the 
fragrant  vine,  with  the  replete  Martin  Luther  nod- 
ding his  sleepy  head  down  into  his  plate  between 
them. 

And  thus  deserted,  the  flush  rose  up  under  Miss 
Wingate's  eyes  and  a  dimple  teased  at  the  corner  of 
her  red  lips,  but  she  busied  herself  with  removing 
the  plate  from  under  Martin  Luther's  yellow  mop 
and  making  a  pillow  of  her  own  bare  arm,  against 
which  he  nestled  his  chubby  little  cheek  with  a  sigh 
of  content,  as  he  drifted  off  into  his  usual  after- 
dinner  nap. 

The  Doctor  watched  her  from  under  his  half- 
closed  eyes,  then  he  lit  a  cigarette,  leaned  his 
elbow  on  the  table  and  sat  silent  for  a  few  moments, 

104 


"What  do  you  think  of  Mother's  philosophies?"     Page  105 


LOVE,   THE   CURE-ALL 

while  under  her  breath  she  hummed  a  little  sleep 
song  to  the  drifting  baby. 

"On  the  whole,"  he  asked  at  last,  the  usual  de- 
lightful courtesy  with  which  he  always  addressed 
her  striving  with  an  unusual  trace  of  gentle  banter 
in  his  deep  voice,  "what  do  you  think  of  Mother's 
philosophies?" 

"I  think,"  she  answered  as  she  ruffled  the  baby's 
curls  with  one  white  hand,  "they  are  so  true  that  no 
wonder  they  are — are  more  healing  than — than  your 
medicines." 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  his  suddenly  and  they  were 
filled  to  the  brim  with  frank  merriment. 

"Don't  tell  me  I'm  going  to  lose  my  one  and  only 
star  patient,  Teether  Pike  and  the  puppy  excepted !" 
he  exclaimed  with  a  laugh. 

"Yes,"  she  answered  slowly,  "I'm  going  to  let 
you  operate  when  the  time  comes — but  it's  your 
Mother  that's  healing  me.  Oh,  can't  you,  can't  you 
see  what  she's  doing  for  me?"  she  turned  to  him 
and  asked  suddenly,  the  burr  thrown  across  her 
voice  heavily  because  of  the  passion  in  her  tones. 
"I  came  to  you  a  broken  instrument — useless  for 

105 


THE  ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

ever,  perhaps — unfit  for  all  I  knew  of  life  unless  you 
healed  me,  and  now — now  I  can  make  things  and  do 
things — a  pie  and  a  good  one,  bread  to  feed  and 
the  butter  thereto,  and  to-day  two  halves  of  a 
pair  of  trousers,  no  the  halves  of  two  pairs  of 
trousers.  What  matter  if  I  never  sing  again  ?"  She 
stretched  her  white  arm  across  the  table  and  looked 
over  the  head  of  the  sleeping  baby  straight  into  his 
eyes.  Hers  were  soft  with  tears,  and  a  divine  shy- 
ness that  seemed  to  question  him. 

He  lifted  the  white  hand,  with  its  pink  palm  up- 
ward, gently  into  his  own  brown  one,  and  placed  the 
tip  of  one  of  his  fingers  on  a  tiny  red  scar  on  her 
forefinger. 

"Do  you  know  the  story  the  drop  of  blood  I  took 
from  this  prick  this  morning  told?"  he  asked  with 
his  eyes  shining  into  hers.  "A  gain  of  over  thirty 
per  cent,  in  red  corpuscles  in  less  than  a  month. 
Yes,  I  admit  it;  Mother  is  building,  but  when  she 
has  you  ready — I'm  going  to  give  it  back  to  you,  the 
wonderful  voice.  I  don't  know  why  I  know,  but 
I  do." 

"And  I  don't  know  why  I  know  that  you  will — 
106 


LOVE,    THE   CURE-ALL 

but  I  do,"  she  answered  with  lowered  voice  and 
eyes.  "When  all  the  others  tried  I  knew  they  would 
fail.  The  horrible  thought  clutched  at  my  throat 
always,  and  there  seemed  no  help.  I  don't  feel  it 
now  at  all.  I'm  too  busy,"  she  added  with  a  catch 
in  her  laugh  and  a  sudden  mist  in  her  eyes. 

"Mother's  treatment  again,"  he  laughed  as  he 
laid  her  hand  gently  back  on  the  table. 

"And  yours — when  directed  by  her — her  philoso- 
phies," she  ventured  daringly,  as  she  lifted  Martin 
Luther  into  her  arms,  with  a  view  to  depositing  him 
upon  the  haven  of  Mother's  bed  to  finish  his  nap. 

The  Doctor  looked  at  her  a  second,  started  to  an- 
swer, thought  better  of  it,  took  the  heavy  youngster 
out  of  her  arms  into  his  own  and  strode  across  the 
hall  with  him  into  Mother's  room. 

The  singer  lady  walked  to  the  edge  of  the  porch, 
pulled  down  a  spray  of  the  fragrant  vine  and 
looked  out  through  it  to  the  blue  hills  beyond  the 
meadows.  She  hummed  a  waltz-song  this  time,  and 
her  eyes  were  dancing  as  if  she  were  meditating 
some  further  assault  on  the  Doctor's  imperturbabil- 
ity. He  came  back  and  stood  beside  her,  and  was 

107 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

just  about  to  make  a  tentative  remark  when  Mother 
Mayberry  hurried  around  the  side  of  the  house. 

"Children!"  she  exclaimed,  her  eyes  shining,  her 
cheeks  pink  with  excitement,  and  the  white  curls 
flying  in  every  direction;  "I  never  did  have  such 
a  time  in  my  life!  It  were  a  chicken-hawk  and  he 
were  right  down  amongst  the  hens  and  little  chick- 
ens. Old  Dominick  was  spread  out  like  a  feather- 
bed over  all  hers  and  most  of  Spangles',  and  there 
Spangles  was  just  a-contending  with  him  over  one 
of  her  little  black  babies.  He  had  it  in  his  claw, 
but  she  had  him  by  a  beak  full  of  feathers  and 
was  a-swinging  on  for  fare-you-well.  Old  Dom- 
inick was  a-directing  of  her  with  squawks,  and  Ruf- 
fle Neck  was  just  squatting  over  hers,  batting  her 
eyes  with  skeer,  for  all  the  world  like  she  was  a  fine 
lady  a-going  into  a  faint.  And  there  stood  all  four 
of  the  roosters,  not  a  one  of  'em  a-turning  of  a 
feather  to  help  her !  They  looked  like  they  was  pet- 
rified to  stone,  and  I'm  a  great  mind  to  make  'em 
every  one  up  into  pies  and  salad  and  such.  They's 
a  heap  of  men,  come  trouble,  don't  make  no  show, 

108 


LOVE,    THE   CURE-ALL 

and  the  women  folks  have  to  lead  the  fight.  But 
they  might  er  helped  her  after  she's  took  holt !" 

"The  brutes!"  exclaimed  Doctor  Tom  with  real 
indignation.  "When  are  you  going  to  have  the  pie, 
Mother?"  he  added  teasingly. 

"Well,  I've  got  no  intentions  of  feeding  no  such 
coward  truck  to  you,  sir,"  answered  his  mother, 
still  flurried  with  belligerency. 

"But  the  little  baby  chicken — what  did  become  of 
it?"  demanded  Miss  Wingate,  and  she,  too,  cast  a 
glance  of  scorn  at  the  Doctor. 

"Why,  he  dropped  it  and  flew  away  as  soon  as 
he  caught  sight  of  me.  It  ain't  hurt  a  mite,  and 
Spangles  have  hovered  it  and  all  the  rest  she  could 
coax  out  from  under  Dominick.  Now  this  do  settle 
it!  Good  looks  don't  disqualify  a  woman  from 
nothing ;  it's  the  men  that  can't  stand  extra  long  tail 
feathers  and  fluted  combs.  I'm  a-going  to  put  'em 
all  four  in  the  pot  before  Wednesday." 

"I  apologize;  I  apologize,  with  emotion,  for  all 
my  doubts,  both  expressed  and  unexpressed,  of  Mrs. 
Spangles!"  the  Doctor  hastened  to  exclaim.  "Neck 

109 


THE  ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

under  heel  for  the  whole  masculine  fraternity  and 
suffrage  triumphant !" 

"Well,  it's  not  as  bad  as  that,"  answered  Mother 
in  a  jovially  mollified  tone  of  voice.  "Meek,  plain^ 
favored  men  like  you  may  be  let  live,  with  no  atten- 
tion paid  'em.  Now  go  on  over  to  Flat  Rock  and 
stop  a-wasting  me  and  my  honey-bird's  time  with 
your  chavering.  Come  back  early  for  supper  or 
you  won't  get  none,  for  all  three  of  us  are  a-going 
to  prayer  meeting." 

"I'll  be  here,  and  thank  you  for — crumbs  of  at- 
tention," answered  the  Doctor,  and,  with  a  laughing 
glance  at  both  his  mother  and  Miss  Wingate  he 
took  himself  off  in  the  direction  of  the  barn,  for 
the  purpose  of  saddling  his  horse  for  his  afternoon 
visit  to  his  patients  beyond  the  Nob. 

"Ain't  he  good  to  look  at?"  asked  Mother  May- 
berry  as  she  watched  his  tall  figure  swing  down  the 
garden  path.  "Good  looks  in  a  man  can  be  a  heap 
of  pleasure  to  a  woman,  but  she  mustn't  let  on  to 
him/' 

"I  believe,'*  said  Miss  Wingate  in  an  impersonally 
judicial  tone  of  voice,  "that  Doctor  Mayberry  is  the 

no 


LOVE,   THE   CURE-ALL 

very  handsomest  man  I  ever  saw.  One  would  al- 
most call  him  beautiful.  It  isn't  entirely  that  he 
is  so  tall  and  grand  and  has  such  eyes,  but— do  you 
know  I  think  it  is  because  he  is  so  like  you  that 
he  is  so  lovely."  And  the  singer  lady  tucked  her 
hand  into  Mother  Mayberry's  with  a  shy  blush. 

"Liking  folks  kinder  shines  'em  up,  same  as  fur- 
niture polish,  honey-bird,"  laughed  Mother  May- 
berry  with  delight  at  the  compliment.  "You're 
a-rubbing  some  on  me  and  Tom  Mayberry.  But 
he  were  the  best  favored  baby  I  'most  ever  saw,  if 
I  do  say  it,  as  shouldn't." 

"Oh!"  said  Miss  Wingate  delightedly,  "I  know 
he  must  have  been  lovely!  What  was  he  like?" 

"Well,"  answered  Mother  reminiscently,  "he  were 
about  like  he  are  now.  He  come  so  ugly  I  cried 
when  I  seen  him  first,  and  Doctor  Mayberry  teased 
me  about  it  to  the  day  of  his  death.  He  called  Tom 
'Ugly'  for  short.  But  he  mighty  soon  begun  to 
sprout  little  pleasing  ways,  a-looking  up  under  them 
black  lashes  and  a-laughing  acrost  my  breast.  His 
cheeks  was  rosy,  his  back  broad  and  his  legs  straight, 
same  as  now.  He  teethed  easy,  walked  soon,  have 

in 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

never  learned  to  talk  much  yet,  and  had  his  measles 
and  whooping-cough  when  his  time  come.  I  just 
thought  he  were  something  'cause  he  were  mine.  All 
babies  is  astonishing  miracles  to  they  mothers." 

"But  I'm  sure  Doctor  Mayberry  was  really  won- 
derful," said  Miss  Wingate,  instantly  sympathetic.  <• 
"Had  he  always  such  black  hair?" 

"Borned  with  it.  Now,  my  little  girl  had  beau- 
tiful yellow  curls  and  I  can  show  you  one,  by  the 
Lord's  mercy  I've  got  it."  Mother  paused  and  an 
ineffable  gentleness  came  into  her  lovely  old  face. 
"I  want  to  tell  you  about  it,  honey-heart,  'cause  it 
have  got  a  strange  sweetness  to  it.  She  wasn't  but 
five  years  old  when  she  died,  tooken  sudden  with 
pneumony  cruel  bad.  Nobody  thought  to  cut  me 
one  of  her  curls  before  they  laid  her  away,  and 
when  I  come  to  myself  I  grieved  over  it  more  than 
I  had  oughter.  But  one  day  when  the  fall  come  on 
and  the  days  was  short  and  dark ;  and  it  looked  like 
nothing  couldn't  light  up  the  old  house  with  that 
sunshine  head  s^one,  me  almost  a-feeling  bitter  and 
questioning  why,  Tom  went  out  and  picked  up  a 
robin's  nest  that  had  blowed  down  from  a  tree  in 

112 


LOVE,   THE   CURE-ALL 

the  yard.  And  there,  wound  around  inside  it,  was 
the  little  curl  I  had  cut  off  in  the  spring,  out  on  the 
porch,  what  had  tagged  into  her  eyes  and  worried 
her!  The  mother  bird  had  used  it  to  make  the 
nest  soft  for  her  babies  and  now  didn't  need  it  no 
more.  When  I  looked  at  it  I  took  it  as  a  message 
and  a  sign  that  my  Lord  hadn't  forgot  me,  and  I 
ain't  never  mistrusted  Him  again.  Come,  let  me 
show  it  to  you." 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  LITTLE  RAVEN  AND  HER   COVERED  DISH 

WEDNESDAY  morning  dawned  clear  and 
bright.  From  over  Providence  Nob  the 
round  red  old  sun  looked  jovially  and  encourag- 
ingly down  upon  Providence,  up  and  stirring  at  an 
unusually  early  hour,  for  in  the  mid-week  came 
Sewing  Circle  day  and  the  usual  routine  of  work 
must  be  laid  by  before  the  noon  meal,  and  every 
housewife  in  condition  to  forgather  at  the  appointed 
place  on  the  stroke  of  one.  Mrs.  Peavey  had 
aroused  the  protesting  Buck  at  the  peep  of  dawn, 
the  Pikes  were  all  up  and  breakfasting  by  the  first 
rays  of  light  that  fell  over  the  Ridge,  and  the 
Hoover  biscuits  had  been  baked  in  the  Pratt  oven 
and  handed  across  the  fence  fifteen  minutes  agone. 
Down  the  road  Mr.  Petway  was  energetically  tak- 
ing down  the  store  shutters  and  Mr.  Mosbey  was 
building  the  blacksmith  shop  fire.  Cindy  had  milked 
and  started  breakfast  and  Mother  Mayberry  had 

114 


THE   LITTLE   RAVEN 

begun  the  difficult  task  of  getting  the  Doctor  up  and 
ready  for  the  morning  meal.  Martin  Luther  had 
had  a  glass  of  warm  milk  and  was  ready  for  an 
energetic  attack  upon  his  first  repast. 

Above,  in  her  room  under  the  gables,  the  singer 
lady  had  been  awakened  by  the  brushing  of  a  white- 
capped  old  locust  bough  against  her  casement  as  it 
attempted  to  climb  with  all  its  bloom  into  her  dor- 
mer window.  As  she  looked  through  the  mist,  a 
long  golden  shaft  of  light  shot  across  the  white 
flowers  and  turned  the  tender  green  leaves  into  a 
bright  yellow.  Suddenly  a  desire  to  get  up  and  look 
across  at  the  Nob  possessed  her,  for  the  arrival  of 
the  sun  upon  the  scene  of  action  was  a  sight  that 
held  the  decided  charm  of  novelty.  And  on  this 
particular  morning  she  found  it  more  than  worth 
while.  Providence  lay  at  her  feet  like  a  great 
bouquet  of  lilacs,  locust  and  fruit  blossoms.  The 
early  mist  was  shot  through  with  long  spears  of  gold 
and  the  pale  smoke  curled  up  from  the  brick  chim- 
neys and  mingled  its  pungent  wood-odor  with  the 
perfume  laden  air.  She  drank  in  great  drafts  of 
exhilaration  and  delighted  her  eyes  with  the  pic- 

"5 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

ture  for  a  number  of  minutes,  until  an  intoxicating 
breakfast  aroma  began  to  steal  up  from  Cindy's  do- 
main. Then,  spurred  by  a  positive  agony  of  hunger, 
it  took  the  singer  lady  the  fewest  possible  number  of 
minutes  to  complete  a  dainty  and  most  ravishing 
breakfast  toilet. 

"Why,  honey-bird,"  exclaimed  Mother  May- 
berry  as  she  descended  the  steps  and  found  them  all 
at  breakfast  in  the  wide-open  dining-room,  "what 
did  you  get  up  so  soon  for?  It's  Wednesday  and 
the  Sewing  Circle  meets  with  me,  so  Cindy  and  us 
must  be  a-stirring,  but  I  had  a  breakfast  in  my 
mind  for  you  two  hours  from  now.  You  hadn't 
oughter  done  it.  Them  ain't  orders  in  your  prescrip- 
tion." 

"I'm  so  hungry,"  she  pleaded  with  a  most  wick- 
edly humble  glance  at  the  Doctor,  who  was  busy 
consuming  muffins  and  chicken  gravy.  "Can't  I 
have  a  breakfast  now,  Doctor — and  the  other  one 
two  hours  later?  Please!" 

"Yes,"  answered  the  Doctor,  "but  don't  forget 
the  two  glasses  of  cream  and  dinner  and  some  of  the 
Sewing  Party  refreshments,  to  say  nothing  of  sup- 

116 


THE   LITTLE    RAVEN 

per — and  are  you  going  to  make  custards  for  us 
to  eat  before  seeking  our  downy  couches?" 

"The  cup  custards  are  going  to  be  part  of  the 
Sewing  Circle  refreshments,"  his  mother  answered 
him.  "I  want  to  show  off  my  teaching  to  the  Provi- 
dence folks.  Give  the  child  some  chicken,  Tom 
Mayberry,  and  then  you  can  go  to  your  work.  We 
don't  want  you  underfoot" 

"Don't  you  need  my  help?"  asked  the  Doctor,  as, 
in  a  disobedient  frame  of  mind,  he  lingered  at  the 
table  to  watch  the  singer  lady  begin  operations  on 
her  dainty  breakfast. 

"Well,  you  can  set  here  and  see  that  Elinory  gets 
all  she  wants  and  more  too,  but  I  must  be  a-doing 
around.  There  cames  the  Deacon!  I  wonder  what 
the  matter  is !"  And  Mother  Mayberry  hurried  out 
of  the  house  and  down  to  the  front  gate  to  meet 
the  Deacon  who  was  coming  slowly  up  the  Road. 

"Good  morning,  Sister  Mayberry !"  he  said  cheer- 
ily enough,  though  there  was  an  expression  of  anxi- 
ety on  his  gentle  old  face.  "I  thought  I  would  find 
you  up,  even  at  this  unusually  early  hour.  Your 
lamp  is  always  burning  to  meet  emergencies.  Mrs. 

117 


THE  ROAD  TO  PROVIDENCE 

Bostick  is  not  well  this  morning  and  I  came  up 
to  see  if  you  could  find  a  moment  to  step  down  to 
see  her  soon.  I  also  wanted  to  ask  Thomas  to  stop 
in  for  a  moment  on  his  way  over  to  Flat  Rock.  I  am 
sure  that  she  is  not  at  all  ill,  but  I  am  just  overly 
anxious." 

"Why,  of  course,  we  will  both  come  right  away, 
Deacon!  What  did  she  eat  last  night  for  sup- 
per? She  oughter  be  careful  about  her  night 
eating." 

"Let  me  see,"  answered  the  Deacon  thoughtfully, 
"I  think  we  both  had  a  portion  of  milk  and  toast 
administered  by  our  young  sister,  Eliza  Pike.  I 
recall  I  pleaded  for  some  of  the  peaches,  still  in  the 
jar  you  gave  Mrs.  Bostick,  but  was  sternly  denied" 
As  he  spoke  the  Deacon  beamed  with  affectionate 
pride  over  having  been  vanquished  by  the  stern 
Eliza. 

Just  at  this  moment  from  around  the  corner  of 
the  Pike  home  came  the  young  woman  in  question, 
with  a  pitcher  in  one  hand  and  a  covered  dish  in  the 
other.  Ez  followed  her  with  a  plate  wrapped  in  a 
napkin,  and  Billy  brought  up  the  rear  with  a  bucket 

118 


THE   LITTLE   RAVEN 

of  cool  water  which  he  sloshed  over  his  bare  feet 
with  every  step. 

"Why,  Deacon,"  demanded  Eliza  sternly,  "you 
ain't  gone  and  et  breakfast  with  Mother  Mayberry, 
when  I  told  you  about  Maw  making  light  rolls 
before  she  went  to  bed  'cause  to-day  is  Wednes- 
day?" 

"No,  Eliza,"  answered  the  Deacon  meekly,  with 
a  delighted  glance  at  Mother  Mayberry  out  of  the 
corner  of  his  eye.  "Neither  Mrs.  Bostick  nor  I 
would  think  of  breakfasting  without  your  super- 
intendence. I  was  just  starting  over  to  tell  you 
that  she  felt  indisposed  and  would  like  to  see  you 
and  Sister  Mayberry,  along  with  the  Doctor,  later 
in  the  day." 

"Well,"  answered  Eliza  confidently,  "I  think  I 
can  tend  to  her  if  Mother  Mayberry  is  too  busy 
to  come.  I  was  a-going  to  watch  for  Doctor  Tom 
and  ask  him  in  anyway.  Please  come  on  home, 
Deacon,  'fore  the  rolls  get  cold  and  the  scrambled 
eggs  set.  Ez,  hold  the  plate  straight  or  the  butter 
will  run  outen  the  rolls !  Please  come  on,  Deacon !" 

"Yes,  Deacon,  go  along  with  her  right  away," 
119 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

answered  Mother  Mayberry,  as  her  eyes  rested  on 
the  serious  face  of  the  ministering  child  with  a 
peculiar  tenderness  tinged  with  respect.  "And,  'Liza, 
honey,  stop  by  and  tell  me  how  Mis'  Bostick  does 
when  you  come  back,  and  let  me  know  if  you  need 
me  to  help  you  any." 

"Yes'm,  Mother  Mayberry,"  answered  Eliza  with 
a  flash  of  pure  joy  shining  in  her  devoted  little  face 
when  she  found  that  she  was  not  to  be  supplanted 
in  her  attendance  on  her  charges.  "I  was  a-coming 
to  see  you  this  morning  anyway  about  the  place  Mr. 
Mosbey  burned  his  ringer  and  I  tied  up  last  night. 
Please  come  on,  Deacon!" 

"And  a  little  child  shall  lead  them,"  said  Mother 
Mayberry  to  herself,  as  she  watched  the  breakfast 
party  down  the  road.  Martin  Luther  had  come  out 
from  the  table  by  this  time  and  now  trotted  along  at 
the  Deacon's  heels  like  a  replete  and  contented 
puppy.  Ez  held  the  plate  carefully  and  Billy  seemed 
about  sure  of  arriving  at  his  destination  with  at 
least  half  the  bucket  of  cool  water.  "Yes,  a  little 
child — but  some  children  are  borned  with  a  full- 
growed  heart." 

120 


THE    LITTLE   RAVEN 

And  true  to  her  promise  Eliza  appeared  an  hour 
or  two  later  to  hold  serious  consultation  over  the 
blacksmithing  finger  down  the  Road. 

"  'Liza.,"  said  Mother  Mayberry  as  she  prepared 
a  stall  for  the  finger  and  poured  a  cooling  lotion  in 
a  small  bottle  for  which  the  child  waited  eagerly, 
"you  are  a-doing  the  right  thing  to  take  nice  things 
to  Mis'  Bostick  and  the  Deacon  and  I'm  proud  of 
your  being  so  kind  and  thoughtful.  Do  they  ever 
ask  you  where  you  bring  'em  from?" 

"I  always  tell  'em,  Mother  Mayberry.  Deacon 
said  I  oughtn't  to  get  things  from  other  folks  to 
bring  to  'em,  but  I  told  him  that  you  and  Mis' 
Pratt  and  Mis'  Mosbey  and  Mis'  Peavey  would  be 
mad  at  me  if  I  just  took  things  from  Maw  to  'em 
and  slighted  they  cooking.  I  pick  out  the  best  things 
everybody  makes.  Maw's  light  rolls,  Mis'  Pratt's 
sunshine  cake  and  cream  potatoes,  Cindy's  chicken 
and  Mis'  Peavey  for  baked  hash.  I  took  the  cus- 
tards from  Miss  Elinory  to  please  her;  but  Mis' 
Mosbey 's  is  better.  I  wanted  'em  to  have  the  best 
they  is  on  the  Road,  'cause  they  is  old  and  they  is 
our'n." 

121 


"Bless  your  dear  little  heart,  the  best  they  shall 
have  always!"  exclaimed  Mother  Mayberry,  as  she 
hugged  her  small  confrere  close  against  her  side 
and  wiped  away  a  tear  with  a  quick  gesture.  "Now 
you  can  go  fix  up  Nath  Mosbey's  finger  to  suit  your 
mind,  Sister  Pike,"  she  added  with  a  laugh  as  she 
bestowed  the  bottle. 

The  rest  of  the  morning  was  filled  to  the  minute 
for  the  Mayberry  household,  which  seemed  possessed 
with  a  frenzy  of  polishing  and  garnishing.  After 
Cindy  had  done  her  worst  with  broom  and  mop, 
Mother  Mayberry  with  feather  duster  and  cloth. 
Miss  Wingate  threw  her  energies  with  abandon  into 
the  accomplishing  of  a  most  artistic  scheme  of  dec- 
oration. She  set  tall  jars  of  white  locust  blossoms 
in  the  hall  which  shone  out  mystically  in  the  cool 
dusk.  She  mingled  lilac  and  red  bud,  cherry  blos- 
soms and  narcissus  and  trailed  long  vines  of  honey- 
suckle over  every  possible  place. 

"Dearie  me,"  said  Mother  Mayberry,  as  she 
paused  in  her  busy  manceuvers  to  take  in  what  Miss 
Wingate  proudly  declared  to  be  the  completed  effect, 
"everybody  will  think  they  have  walked  into  a 

122 


THE   LITTLE   RAVEN 

flower  show.  I'm  sorry  I  never  thought  of  inviting 
in  the  outdoors  to  any  of  my  parties  before.  I 
wonder  if  some  of  the  meek  folks,  that  our  dear 
Lord  told  about  being  invited  in  from  the  byways 
and  hedges,  mightn't  a-brought  some  of  the  hedge 
blooms  along  into  the  feast  with  'em.  Thank  you, 
child,  the  prettiness  will  feed  everybody's  eye,  I 
know,  but  you'd  better  run  along  and  get  to  whip- 
ping on  that  custard  for  they  stomicks.  This  here 
is  a  Mission  Circle,  but  it  have  got  a  good  knife  and 
fork  by-law  to  it.  Make  a  plenty  and  if  we  feel  well 
disposed  toward  Tom  Mayberry,  come  bedtime,  we 
may  feed  him  a  half  dozen." 

And  in  accordance  with  time-honored  custom  the 
stroke  of  one  found  the  Providence  matrons 
grouped  along  the  Road  and  up  Mother  Mayberry's 
front  walk,  in  the  act  of  assembling  for  the  good 
work  in  hand. 

"Come  in,  everybody,"  exclaimed  Mother  May- 
berry,  as  she  welcomed  them  from  the  front  steps. 
"I'm  mighty  glad  all  are  on  time,  for  I  have  got  the 
best  of  things  to  tell,  as  I  have  been  saving  by  the 
hardest  for  three  days.  A  woman  holding  back 

123 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

news  is  mighty  like  root-beer,  liable  to  pop  the  cork 
and  foam  over  in  spite  of  all." 

"I'm  mighty  glad  to  hear  something  good,"  said 
Mrs.  Peavey  in  a  doleful  tone.  "Looks  like  the 
world  have  got  into  astonishing  misery.  Did  you 
all  read  in  the  Bolivar  Herald  last  week  about  that 
explode  in  a  mine  in  Delyware;  a  terrible  flood 
in  Louisianny  and  the  man  that  killed  his  wife  and 
six  children  in  Kansas?  I  don't  know  what  we're 
a-coming  to.  I  told  Mr.  Peavey  and  Buck  this 
morning,  but  they  ain't  either  of  'em  got  any  sym- 
pathy. They  just  went  on  talking  about  the  good 
trade  Mr.  Hoover  made  in  hogs  over  to  Springfield 
and  the  fine  clover  stand  they  have  got  in  the  north 
field." 

By  this  time  the  assembly  had  removed  their  hats, 
laid  them  on  Mother  Mayberry's  snowy  bed  and 
.settled  themselves  in  rocking-chairs  that  had  been 
'collected  from  all  over  the  house  for  the  occasion. 
Gay  sewing  bags  had  been  produced  and  the  armor 
of  thimbles  and  scissors  had  been  buckled  on. 
Mother  Mayberry  still  stood  in  the  center  of  the 

124 


THE   LITTLE   RAVEN 

room  watching  to  see  that  all  of  her  guests  were 
comfortably  seated. 

"Them  were  mighty  bad  happenings,  Mis'  Pea- 
vey,  and  I  know  we  all  feel  for  such  trouble  being 
sent  on  the  Lord's  people,"  said  Mother  Mayberry 
seriously,  though  a  smile  quirked  at  the  corners  of 
the  WMow  Pratt's  pretty  mouth  and  young  Mrs. 
Nath  Mosbey  bent  over  to  hunt  in  her  bag  for  an 
unnecessary  spool  of  thread.  Mrs.  Peavey's  nature 
was  of  the  genus  kill-joy,  and  it  was  hard  to  steer 
her  into  the  peaceful  waters  of  social  enjoyment. 

"I  don't  think  any  of  that  is  as  bad  as  three 
divorce  cases  I  read  about  in  a  town  paper  that  Mr. 
Petway  wrapped  up  some  calico  for  me  in,"  an- 
swered Mrs.  Peavey,  continuing  her  lamentations 
over  conditions  in  general,  which  they  all  knew 
would  get  to  be  over  conditions  in  particular  if 
something  did  not  intervene  to  stop  the  tide  of  her 
dissatisfaction. 

"Divorces  oughtn't  to  be  allowed  by  the  United 
States,"  answered  Mrs.  Pike  decidedly.  "They  are 
too  many  people  in  the  world  that  don't  seem  to 

125 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

be  able  to  hitch  up  together,  without  letting  folks 
already  geared  roam  loose  again.  But  what's  the 
news,  Sister  Mayberry?"  There  came  times  when 
only  Judy  Pike's  uncompromising  veto  could  lay 
Mrs.  Peavey  on  the  table. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think !  Tom  Mayberry  have 
got  this  Providence  Meeting-house  Sewing  Circle 
a  good  big  sewing  order  from  the  United  States 
Government.  Night  drawers  and  aprons  and  chim- 
eses  and  all  sorts  of  things  and — " 

"Lands  alive,  Sister  Mayberry,  you  must  be 
outen  your  head !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Peavey  with  her 
usual  fear-the- worst  manner.  "What  earthly  use 
can  the  United  States  Government  have  for  night 
drawers  and  chimeses  ?" 

"Now,  Hettie  Ann,  you  didn't  let  me  have  my 
say  out,"  remonstrated  Mother  Mayberry  as  they 
all  laughed  merrily  at  Mrs.  Peavey's  scandalized  re- 
monstrance. "They  are  for  them  poor  misfortun- 
ates  over  at  Flat  Rock  what  the  Government  have 
sent  Tom  down  here  to  study  about,  so  he  can  find 
the  bug  that  makes  the  disease  and  stop  it  from 
spreading  everywhere.  While  he's  a-working  with 

126 


THE   LITTLE   RAVEN 

'em  he  has  to  see  that  they  are  provided  for;  and 
they  condition  are  shameful.  He  wants  outfits  for 
the  women  and  children  and  Mr.  Petway  have  the 
order  to  buy  the  men's  things  down  in  the  City  for 
him.  He's  a-going  to  pay  us  good  prices  for  the 
work  and  it  will  mean  a  lot  of  money  for  the  carpet 
and  the  repair  fund.  A  quarter  apiece  for  the  little 
night  drawers  without  feet  to  'em  is  good  money. 
He  wanted  to  give  us  fifty  cents  but  I  told  him  no, 
I  wasn't  a-going  to  cheat  my  own  country  for  no 
little  child's  night  rigging.  A  quarter  is  fair  to 
liberal,  I  say." 

"That  it  is,  Mis'  Mayberry,  and  thank  Doctor 
Tom,  too,  for  giving  us  the  order,"  answered  Widow 
Pratt  heartily.  "When  can  we  begin?  I'll  cut  'em 
all  out  at  home,  so  as  to  save  time,  if  you'll  give  me 
the  goods.  I  can  cut  children's  clothes  out  with  my 
eyes  shut  and  sew  'em  with  my  left  hand  if  needs 
be." 

"Well,  if  all  we  hear  be  true,  Bettie  Pratt,  it's 
a  good  thing  it  comes  easy  to  you.  The  sewing  for 
seventeen  might  be  a  set-back  to  any  kind  of  co'ting, 
but  seeing  as  you  likes  it  so,  why,  maybe — "  Mrs. 

127 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

Peavey  paused  and  peered  at  the  blushing-  widow 
with  goading  curiosity  in  her  keen  eyes. 

"Well,  it  hasn't  been  a  bit  to  me  and  Mr.  Hoover, 
Mis'  Peavey,"  she  answered  with  dancing  eyes  and 
a  lovely  rose  color  mounting  her  cheeks.  "Looks 
like  all  the  love  we  have  got  for  each  other's  or- 
phant  children  have  mixed  itself  up  into  a  wedding 
cake  for  the  family.  I  had  laid  off  to  tell  you  all 
about  it  this  afternoon,  and  here's  a  box  of  pepper- 
mints Mr.  Hoover  sent  everybody.  He  said  to  make 
you  say  sweet  things  about  him  to  me.  Have  one, 
Mis'  Peavey,  and  pass  the  box !" 

With  which  a  general  laugh  and  buzz  of  inquiry 
went  around  with  the  box  of  sweets  provided  by 
the  wily  widower. 

"Well,  we  think  we'll  just  build  a  long,  covered 
porch  acrost  the  fronts  of  the  two  houses  to  con- 
nect 'em  up,"  answered  Mrs.  Pratt  to  a  friendly 
inquiry  about  her  future  domestic  arrangements. 
"I  know  it  will  look  sorter  like  a  broke-in-two  steam- 
boat but  I  can  put  the  boys  all  over  into  one  house 
and  take  the  girls  with  me.  We  can  rent  a  room  in 
the  boys'  house  to  Mr.  Pet  way  and  he'll  look  after 

128 


THE   LITTLE   RAVEN 

them  if  need  be,  though  'Lias  Hoover  and  my  Henny 
Turner  are  getting  big,  dependable  boys  already. 
I'm  so  glad  the  children  match  out  in  pairs.  I  al- 
ways did  want  twins  and  now  I'm  going  to  have 
eight  pairs  and  the  baby  over.  I  don't  think  I  ever 
was  so  happy  before."  And  pretty  Bettie  fairly 
radiated  lovingness  from  her  big,  motherly  heart. 

"Bettie  Pratt,  you  are  a  regular  Proverbs,  last 
chapter  and  tenth  to  thirtieth  verse  woman  and 
your  husband's  heart  is  a-going  to  'safely  rejoice' 
in  you,"  said  Mother  Mayberry  as  she  beamed 
across  the  little  sleeve  she  was  basting  in  an  apron. 
"And  this  brings  me  to  the  mention  of  another  little 
Bible  character  we  have  a-running  about  amongst 
us.  It's  'Liza  Pike,  as  should  be  called  one  of 
God's  own  little  ravens  and  you  all  know  why." 

"Yes,  we  do,  Sister  Mayberry,"  spoke  up  Mrs. 
Mosbey  quickly.  "And  I've  just  caught  on  to  her  do- 
ings, and  thankful  I  am  to  her  for  letting  in  the 
light  to  us  before  it  were  too  late  maybe." 

"Why,  what  have  my  child  been  a-doing  to  be 
spoke  of  this  way?"  asked  her  mother  with  both 
pride  and  uneasiness  in  her  tone,  for  Eliza,  as  is 

129 


THE  ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

the  way  of  all  geniuses,  especially  those  of  a  phil- 
anthropic turn  of  mind,  was  apt  often  to  confront 
those  responsible  for  her  with  the  unexpected. 

"Just  seeing  what  we  was  failing  to  notice,  that 
Mis'  Bostick  and  the  Deacon  was  in  need  of  being 
tooken  care  of  and,  without  a  word  to  anybody, 
starting  out  with  a  covered  dish  and  a  napkin  to  do 
the  providing  for  'em.  And  in  the  right  spirit,  too, 
walking  into  each  kitchen  and  taking  the  best  offen 
the  stove — no  left-over  scraps  in  her  offering  to  the 
Lord,  and  she  have  gave  a  lesson  to  grown-ups.  We 
all  love  the  old  folks  and  was  ready  to  do,  but 
'Liza  have  proved  that  love  must  be  mixed  with  a 
little  gumption  to  make  wheels  go  round.  And  ain't 
she  cute  about  it?  She  told  the  Deacon  that  she 
had  to  bring  something  from  everybody's  kitchen 
or  hurt  all  our  feelings.  They  is  a  way  of  putting 
what-oughter-be  into  words  that  makes  it  a  truth, 
and  she  did  it  that  time."  As  she  delivered  her 
little  homily  on  the  subject  of  the  absent  small 
Sister  Pike,  Mother  Mayberry's  face  shone  with 
emotion  and  there  was  a  mist  in  her  eyes  that  also 
dimmed  the  vision  of  some  of  the  others. 

130 


THE   LITTLE   RAVEN 

"And  the  way  of  her,"  laughed  the  widow  softly. 
"Told  me  yesterday  I  didn't  brown  my  hoe-cake 
enough  on  both  sides  for  the  Deacon's  greens — 
that  Mis'  Peavey's  was  better." 

"Why,  Mis'  Pratt,  'Liza  oughtn't  to  speak  that 
way  to  you ;  it  ain't  manners,"  her  mother  hastened- 
to  say  as  they  all  laughed,  even  the  misanthrope, 
who  was  much  pleased  over  this  public  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  superiority  of  her  handiwork. 

"Now,  Judy  honey,  don't  you  say  one  word  to 
'Liza  about  that!  She  have  got  the  whole  thing 
fixed  up  for  us  now,  and  it  won't  do  to  get  her 
conscious  like  in  her  management  of  the  old  folks. 
The  thing  for  us  to  do  is  to  make  our  engagements 
for  truck  with  her  regular  and  take  her  dictation 
always  about  what  is  sent.  Keep  it  in  her  mind  how 
complimented  we  are  to  be  let  give  to  the  Deacon 
and  she'll  manage  him,  pride  and  all,  in  a  sorter 
game.  We'll  make  it  a  race  with  her  which  pleases 
him  most.  And  now,"  Mother  paused  and  looked 
from  the  face  of  one  hearty  country  woman  to 
another  with  a  wealth  of  affection  for  each  and 
every  one,  "let's  don't  none  of  us  forget  to  take 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

the  child  up  to  the  throne  with  us  each  night  in  the 
arms  of  prayer,  as  one  of  His  ministers! — Well 
it's  time  for  us  to  walk  out  to  the  dining-room  and 
see  what  kind  of  a  set-out  Cindy  and  Elinory  have 
got  for  us.  Yes,  Mis'  Nath,  did  you  ever  see  such 
a  show  of  decorations?  She  must  a-kinder  sensed 
the  wedding  in  the  air  in  compliment  to  you,  Bettie. 
Come  in,  one  and  all !" 

And  the  cheerful  company  assembled  around 
the  hospitable  Mayberry  board  put  into  practice  the 
knife  and  fork  by-law  of  the  Circle  with  hearty 
good  will.  Cindy's  austerity  relaxed  noticeably  at 
the  compliments  handed  her  in  return  for  her  offer 
of  the  various  viands  she  had  prepared  for  their 
delectation,  and  Miss  Wingate  blushed  and  beamed 
upon  them  all  with  the  most  rapturous  delight  when 
her  efforts  met  with  like  commendation.  She  had 
insisted  on  helping  Cindy  wait  on  them  and  was 
such  a  very  lovely  young  Hebe  that  they  could 
scarcely  eat  for  looking  at  her. 

"Sakes,  Mis'  Mayberry,"  said  Mrs.  Pike,  who  had 
unbent  from  her  reserve  over  her  second  cup  of  tea 
to  a  most  remarkable  degree,  "it  were  hard  enough 

132 


THE   LITTLE   RAVEN 

to  ask  Doctor  Tom  in  to  pot-luck  with  my  chicken 
dumplins,  that  he  carries  on  over,  a-knowing  about 
what  you  and  Cindy  could  shake  up  in  the  kitchen, 
but  with  Miss  Elinory's  cooking  added  I'm  a-going 
to  turn  him  away  hungry  next  time." 

"Oh,  please  don't!"  exclaimed  Miss  Wingate. 
"Yours  is  the  next  place  he  has  promised  to  take 
me  to  supper.  And  Bud  and  Eliza  have  both  in- 
vited me." 

"I'll  set  a  day  with  him  this  very  night,"  re- 
sponded Mrs.  Judy,  all  undone  with  pride.  Noth- 
ing in  the  world  could  have  pleased  the  hospitable 
country  women  more  than  the  parties  that  Doctor 
Tom  had  been  improvising  for  the  amusement  of 
the  singer  girl.  Before  each  visit  he  openly  and 
boldly  made  demands  of  each  friend  for  her  chef- 
d'oeuvre  and  consumed  the  same  heartily  and  with 
delight  in  the  stranger's  growing  appetite. 

"If  you  folks  don't  stop  spoiling  Tom  Mayberry 
I  won't  never  be  able  to  get  him  a  wife.  I'll  have  to 
take  little  Bettie  to  raise  and  teach  her  how  to  bit 
and  bridle  him,"  laughed  Mother  Mayberry,  as  they 
all  rose  and  flocked  to  the  front  porch. 

133 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

In  the  Road  in  front  of  the  house  had  congregated 
the  entire  school  of  small- fry,  drawn  by  the  mother 
lode,  but  too  well  trained  to  think  of  making  any 
kind  of  interruption  to  the  gathering.  They  were 
busily  engaged  in  a  tag  and  tally  riot  which  was  led 
on  one  side  by  Eliza  and  the  other  by  Henny  Turner, 
whose  generalship  could  hardly  be  said  to  equal 
that  of  his  younger  and  feminine  opponent.  Teether 
and  little  Hoover  sat  in  the  Pike  wheelbarrow  which 
was  drawn  up  beside  the  Pike  gate,  and  attached 
thereto  by  long  gingham  strings  were  Martin  Luther 
and  little  Bettie.  They  champed  the  gingham  bits 
drawn  through  their  mouths  and  pranced  with  their 
little  bare  feet  in  the  dust,  as  Eliza  found  time  every 
minute  or  two  to  call  out  "whoa"  or  cut  at  them 
with  a  switch  as  she  flashed  past  them.  They  were 
distinctly  of  the  game  and  were  blissfully  uncon- 
scious of  the  fact  that  they  were  not  in  it.  This 
arrangement  for  keeping  them  happy,  though  out  of 
the  way,  had  been  of  Eliza's  contriving  and  did 
credit  to  her  wit  in  many  senses  of  the  word. 

At  the  appearance  of  their  be-hatted  parents  on 
Mother  Mayberry's  front  walk  they  all  swooped 

134 


THE   LITTLE   RAVEN 

over  and  stood  in  a  circle  around  the  gate.  A 
mother  who  has  many  calls  in  the  life-complicated 
to  take  her  out  of  reach  of  the  children  is  different 
from  a  mother  who  is  always  in  the  house,  kitchen, 
garden  or  at  a  convenient  neighbor's,  and  this 
weekly  three-hour  separation  occasionally  had  dis- 
astrous results. 

"Have  anything  happened,  'Liza?"  asked  her 
mother,  as  she  ran  a  practised  eye  over  her  group 
and  detected  not  a  loose  end.  Eliza  and  Bud  had 
rolled  over  the  wheelbarrow,  led  by  the  prancing 
team. 

"No'm,"  answered  Eliza,  "everybody's  been  good 
and  the  Deacon  have  told  us  three  Bible  tales,  and 
my  side  have  beat  Henny's  five  catches  and  one 
loose.  But  Henny  played  his'n  good,"  she  added, 
with  a  worthy  victor's  generosity  to  the  fallen  foe. 

"Here's  a  whole  bucket  of  cakes  Cindy  and  Miss 
Elinory  made  in  case  we  found  a  good  passel  of 
children  when  the  meeting  was  over,"  said  Mother 
Mayberry  as  she  tendered  the  crisp  reward  of  merit 
to  Bud  Pike,  who  stood  nearest  her. 

"Thank  you,  ma'am,"  answered  Bud,  mindful  of 
135 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

his  manners.  "Say,  'Liza,  let's  all  go  down  and  set 
on  the  pump  and  eat  'em,  and  we  can  drink  water, 
too,  so  they  will  last  longer." 

"All  right,"  answered  Eliza,  and  she  set  about 
unharnessing  the  young  team,  who  immediately 
scampered  after  the  rest.  She  handed  little  Hoover 
to  Mrs.  Pratt  and  was  preparing  to  set  off  with 
Teether  in  the  wake  of  the  cake  bucket,  when  the 
widow  called  to  her. 

"  'Liza,  honey,"  she  said,  "here's  some  pepper- 
mints for  you.  They  wasn't  enough  to  give  some 
to  all  the  children,  but  I  want  you  to  get  a  bite,  any- 
way." 

"Thanky,  ma'am,  but  I  don't  like  the  fresh  air 
taste  of  'em  in  my  mouth,"  answered  Eliza.  "But 
can  you  give  me  five  of  'em?  I  want  one  for  Dea- 
con and  Mis'  Bostick  and  I  want  one  for  Squire 
Tutt,  'cause  he  do  love  peppermint  so.  He  wouldn't 
take  the  medicine  Mother  Mayberry  fixes  for  him  if 
she  didn't  put  peppermint  in  it.  He  says  so.  He's 
porely  and  have  got  his  head  all  tied  up  in  a  shawl, 
'cause  prayer  meeting  day  Mis'  Tutt  sings  hymns 
all  the  time  and  music  gives  him  misery  in  his  ears. 

136 


THE   LITTLE   RAVEN 

I  want  to  give  her  one,  too,  and  I  want  one  for 
Cindy." 

"I'll  save  all  in  the  box  for  you,  sweetie,"  as- 
sented Mrs.  Pratt  heartily.  "Now  run  along,  for 
you  might  get  left  out  of  that  cake  eating." 

"No,  ma'am,  I  won't,"  answered  Eliza  with  confi- 
dence ;  "they  won't  begin  till  I  get  there.  It  wouldn't 
be  fair."  And  she  hurried  down  the  Road  to 
where  the  group  waited  impatiently  but  loyally 
around  the  town  pump. 

"Ain't  they  all  the  Lord's  blessings?"  asked 
Mother  Mayberry,  as  she  looked  down  the  Road  at 
the  little  swarm  with  tender  pride  in  her  eyes. 

"That  they  are,"  answered  the  widow,  with  an 
echo  of  the  pride  in  her  own  rich  voice,  "and  to 
think  that  pretty  soon  seventeen  of  'em  will  be 
mine !" 

And  it  was  an  hour  or  two  later  that  the  old  red 
sun  had  reluctantly  departed  across  the  west  mead- 
ows, just  as  a  soft  lady  moon  rose  languidly  over 
Providence  Nob.  Providence  suppers  had  all  been 
served,  the  day's  news  discussed  with  the  men  folk, 
jocularly  eager  to  get  the  drippings  of  excitement 

137 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

from  the  afternoon  infair,  and  the  Road  toddlers 
put  to  bed,  when  the  soft-toned  Meeting-house  bell 
droned  out  its  call  for  the  weekly  prayer  meeting. 
Very  soon  the  Road  was  in  a  gentle  hum  of  con- 
versation as  the  congregation  issued  from  their 
house  doors  and  wended  their  way  slowly  toward 
the  little  church,  which,  back  from  the  Road  in  an 
old  cedar  glade,  brooded  over  its  peaceful  yard  of 
graves.  The  men  had  all  donned  their  coats  and 
exchanged  field  hats  for  stiff,  uncomfortable, 
straight-brimmed  straw,  and  their  wives  still  wore 
the  Sewing  Circle  gala  attire.  The  older  children 
walked  decorously  along,  each  group  in  wake  of  the 
heads  of  their  own  family,  though  Buck  Peavey 
had  managed  to  annex  himself  to  the  Hoover  house- 
hold. 

"Well,  I  don't  know  just  what  to  do  with  you 
all,"  said  Mother  Mayberry,  as  she  came  out  on 
the  front  porch,  sedately  bonneted,  with  her  Bible 
and  hymn-book  under  her  arm  and  fortified  with 
a  huge  palm-leaf  fan.  "It's  my  duty  to  make  you 
both  come  with  Cindy  and  me  to  prayer  meeting, 
but  I  don't  hold  with  a  body  using  they  own  duty 

138 


THE   LITTLE   RAVEN 

as  a  stick  to  fray  out  other  folks  with.  I  reckon  I'll 
have  to  let  you  two  just  set  here  on  the  steps  and  see 
if  you  can  outshine  the  moon  in  your  talk,  which 
you  can't,  but  think  you  can." 

"Oh,  we'll  come  with  you!  I  was  just  going  to 
get  my  hat,"  exclaimed  the  singer  lady  as  she  rose 
from  the  steps  upon  which  Doctor  Tom  kept  his  seat 
and  puffed  a  ring  of  his  cigar  smoke  a.t  his  mother 
daringly. 

"No,  honey-bird,  you've  had  a  long  day  since 
your  sun-up  breakfast  and  I'll  excuse  you.  I'd  let 
Tom  Mayberry  go  only  I  have  to  make  him  stay  to 
keep  care  of  you.  Put  that  lace  fascination  around 
your  throat  if  a  breeze  blows  up!  Tom,  try  to 
make  out,  with  Elinory's  help,  to  bring  a  fresh  bucket 
of  water  from  the  spring  for  the  night.  Good-by, 
both  of  you;  I'm  a-going  to  bring  you  a  blessing!" 

"Yourself,  mother,"  called  the  Doctor  after  her. 

"Honey-fuzzle,"  called  Mother  back  from  the 
gate.  "Better  keep  it,  son,  you'll  need  it  some  day." 

"Was  there  ever,  ever  anybody  just  like  her?" 
asked  Miss  Wingate,  as  she  sank  back  on  the  step 
beside  the  Doctor. 

139 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

"I  think  not,"  he  answered  with  a  hint  of  tender- 
ness in  his  voice;  "but  then,  really,  Mother  is  one 
of  a  type.  A  type  one  has  to  get  across  a  continent 
from  Harpeth  Hills  to  appreciate.  She's  the  result 
of  the  men  and  women  who  blazed  the  wilderness 
trail  into  Tennessee,  and  she  has  Huguenot  puritan- 
ism  contending  with  cavalier  graces  of  spirit  in  her 
nature." 

"Well,  she's  perfectly  darling  and  the  little  town 
is  just  an  exquisite  setting  for  her.  Do  you  know 
what  this  soft  moonlight  aspect  of  Providence  re- 
minds me  of,  with  those  tall  poplars  down  the  Road 
and  the  wide-roofed  houses  and  barns?  The  little 
village  in  Lombardy  where — where  I  met — my 
fate." 

"Met  your  fate?"  asked  the  Doctor  quickly  after 
a  moment.  His  face  was  in  the  shadow  and  not  a 
note  in  his  voice  betrayed  his  anxiety. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  singer  lady  in  a  dreamy, 
reminiscent  voice.  The  moon  shone  full  down  into 
her  very  lovely  face,  fell  across  her  white  throat  and 
shimmered  into  the  faint  rose  folds  of  her  dainty 
gown.  Her  close,  dark  braids  showed  black  against 

140 


THE   LITTLE   RAVEN 

the  fragrant  wistaria  vines  and  her  eyes  were  deep 
and  velvety  in  the  soft  light.  "Yes,  it  was  the  sum- 
mer I  was  eighteen  and  I  had  gone  over  with  my 
father  for  a  month  or  two  of  recuperation  for  him 
after  a  long  extra  session  of  Congress.  Monsieur 
LaTour  was  staying  in  the  little  village,  also  re- 
cuperating. He  heard  me  singing  to  father,  and 
that  night  my  fate  was  sealed.  It  was  a  wonderful 
thing  to  come  to  me — and  I  was  so  young." 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  said  the  Doctor  quietly,  and 
his  voice  was  perfectly  steady,  though  his  heart 
pounded  like  mad  and  his  cigar  shook  in  his  fingers. 

"My  father  died  at  the  end  of  the  summer,  after 
only  a  few  day's  illness,  and  he  had  grown  to  believe 
what  LaTour  said  of  my  voice,  and  to  have  great 
confidence  in  my  future.  I  had  no  near  relatives 
and  in  his  will  he  left  me  to  Monsieur  LaTour  and 
Madame,  his  wife.  She  is  an  American  and  her 
father  had  been  in  the  Senate  with  father  for  years. 
Monsieur  is  a  very  great  teacher,  perhaps  the  great- 
est living.  Madame  wanted  to  come  to  Providence 
with  me,  but  Doctor  Stein  insisted  that  I  come  alone. 
I — I'm  very  glad  she  didn't,  though  they  both  love 

141 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

me  and  await — "  She  paused  and  leaned  her  flower 
head  back  against  the  wistaria  vine. 

And  the  great  breath  that  Doctor  Thomas  May- 
berry  of  Providence  drew  might  have  cracked  the 
breast  of  a  giant.  In  this  world  no  record  is  kept  of 
the  great  moments  when  a  private  individual's  uni- 
verse collides  with  his  far  star  and  of  the  crash  that 
ensues. 

"I  rather  thought  you  meant  another — another 
kind  of  fate.  I  was  preparing  for  confidences,"  he 
managed  to  say  in  a  very  small  voice  for  so  large 
a  man. 

"Mais,  non,  Monsieur,  jamais — never!"  she  ex- 
claimed quickly.  "I — I — have  been  tempted  to  think 
sometimes  I  might  like  that  sort — of  a — fate,  but  I 
haven't  had  the  time.  It  was  work,  work,  sleep, 
eat,  live  for  the  voice!  And — and  once  or  twice 
it  has  seemed  worth  while.  My  debut  night  in  Paris 
when  I  sang  the  Juliette  waltz-song — just  the  mo- 
ment when  I  realized  I  could  use  it  as  I  would  and 
always  more  volume — and  the  people!  And  again 
the  night  in  New  York  when  I  had  made  it  incarnate 
Elizabeth  as  she  sings  to  Tannhauser — the  night  it 

142 


THE   LITTLE   RAVEN 

went  away."  And  as  she  spoke  she  dropped  her 
head  on  her  arms  folded  across  her  knees. 

"Have  you  picked  out  the  song  you  are  going  to 
sing  first  when  it  comes  back?"  demanded  the  very- 
young  Doctor  with  a  quick  note  of  tenderness  in 
his  voice,  still  under  a  marvelous  control. 

"Yes,"  she  answered  as  she  turned  her  head  and 
peeped  up  at  him  with  shining  eyes,  a  delicious  little 
burr  of  a  laugh  in  her  throat,  Rings  on  my  fingers, 
bdls  on  my  toes,  for  Teether  Pike.  He  is  wild 
about  my  humming  it,  and  dances  with  his  absurd, 
chubby  little  legs  at  the  first  note.  What  will  he 
do  if  I  can  really  sing  it  ?  And  I'll  sing  Beulah  Land 
for  Cindy,  and  I'm  sitting  on  the  stile,  Mary,  for 
your  mother,  perhaps,  Oh,  the  kingdom  of  my  heart 
for  Buck,  and  Drink  to  me  only,  for  Squire  Tutt, 
hymns  for  the  Deacon — and  a  paean  for  you,  if  I 
have  to  order  one  from  New  York." 

"Do  you  know,"  said  the  Doctor  after  a  long 
pause  in  which  he  lit  his  cigar  and  again  began  to 
puff  rings  out  into  the  moonlight,  "I'd  like  to  say 
that  you  are — are  a — perfect  wonder." 

"You  may,"  she  answered  with  a  laugh.     Then 

143 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

suddenly  she  stretched  out  her  hand  to  him  and,  as 
he  took  it  into  his,  she  asked  very  quietly  with  just 
the  one  word,  "When?" 

"In  a  few  weeks,  I  hope,"  he  answered  her  just 
as  quietly,  comprehending  her  instantly. 

"I'll  be  gopd — and  wait,"  she  answered  him  in  a 
tone  of  voice  that  would  have  done  credit  to  little 
Bettie  Pratt.  "Let's  hurry  and  get  that  bucket  of 
water;  don't  you  hear  them  singing  the  doxology?" 


144 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  PROVIDENCE  TAG-GANG 

MISS  ELINOR Y,  do  you  think  getting  mar- 
ried and  such  is  ketching,  like  the  mumps 
and  chickenpox?"  asked  Eliza  Pike  as  she  sat  on 
the  steps  at  the  daintily  shod  feet  of  the  singer  lady, 
who  sat  in  Mother  Mayberry's  large  arm-chair, 
swinging  herself  and  Teether  slowly  to  and  fro, 
humming  happily  little  vagrant  airs  that  floated  into 
her  brain  on  the  wings  of  their  own  melody. 
Teether's  large  blue  eyes  looked  into  hers  with 
earnest  rapture  and  his  little  head  swayed  on  his 
slender  neck  in  harmony  with  her  singing. 

"Why,  Eliza,  I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  Do  you 
think  so?"  answered  Miss  Wingate,  as  she  smiled 
down  into  the  large  eyes  raised  to  hers.  The  heart- 
to-heart  communions,  which  she  and  Eliza  found 
opportunities  to  hold,  were  a  constant  source  of 
pleasure  to  Miss  Wingate,  and  the  child's  quaint  lit- 

145 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

tie  personality  unfolded  itself  delightedly  in  the  sun- 
shine of  appreciation  from  this  lady  of  her  adora- 
tion. 

"Yes'm,  I  believe  I  do.  Mis'  Pratt  and  Mr. 
Hoover  started  it,  and  last  night  Mr.  Petway  walked 
home  with  Aunt  Prissy  and  Maw  set  two  rocking- 
chairs  out  on  the  front  porch  for  'em.  Paw  said 
he  was  more'n  glad  to  set  in  the  back  yard  and 
smoke  his  pipe.  Maw  wouldn't  put  Teether  to  bed, 
but  rocked  him  in  her  lap  'cause  he  might  wake  up 
and  disturb  'em.  She  let  me  set  up  with  her  and 
Paw  and  he  told  tales  on  the  time  he  co'ted  her. 
She  said  hush  up,  that  co'ting  was  like  mumps  and 
chickenpox  and  he  was  about  to  get  a  second  spell. 
Does  it  make  you  want  a  beau  too,  Miss  Elinory  ?" 

"Well,"  answered  Miss  Wingate  slowly  with  a 
candor  that  would  have  been  vouched  no  other  soul 
save  the  sympathetic  Eliza,  "it  might  be  nice." 

"I  thought  you  would  like  one,"  answered  Eliza 
enthusiastically,  "and  you  know  I  had  done  picked 
out  Doctor  Tom  for  you,  but  since  I  saw  him  dress 
up  so  good  this  morning  and  go  to  Bolivar  to  take 
the  train  to  the  City  and  he  got  the  letter  from  Miss 

146 


THE    PROVIDENCE   TAG-GANG 

Alford  day  before  yesterday — that  is,  Aunt  Prissy 
says  Mr.  Pet  way  thinks  it  was  from  her — I  reckon  it 
won't  be  fair  to  get  him  for  you,  when  she  had  him 
first  last  summer.  Oughtn't  you  to  be  fair  about 
taking  folk's  beaux  just  like  taking  they  piece  of 
cake  or  skipping  rope?"  Eliza  was  fast  developing 
a  code  of  morals  that  bade  fair  to  be  both  original 
and  sound. 

"Yes,"  answered  Miss  Wingate  with  the  utmost 
gravity  and  not  a  little  perturbation  in  her  voice, 
"yes,  of  course.  When  did  Doctor  Mayberry  go?" 

"This  morning  before  you  came  down-stairs.  He 
give  Mother  Mayberry  some  drops  for  Mis'  Bos- 
tick  and  told  me,  too,  how  to  give  'em  to  her. 
Mother  Mayberry  is  down  there  now  and  I'm  a-go- 
ing to  stay  with  her  this  afternoon.  But  I  tell  you 
what  we  can  do,  Miss  Elinory,  there  is  Sam  Mosbey 
— I  believe  you  can  get  him  easy.  He  picked  up  a  rose 
you  dropped  when  you  went  in  the  store  to  get  your 
letters  the  other  day,  and  when  Mr.  Petway  laughed 
he  got  red  even  in  his  ears.  And  just  this  week  he 
have  bought  a  pair  of  pink  suspenders,  some  sweet 
grease  for  his  hair  and  green  striped  socks.  He'll 

147 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

look  lovely  when  he  gets  fixed  up  and  I  hope  you 
will  notice  him  some."  Eliza  spoke  in  the  most  en- 
couraging of  tones  of  the  improvement  in  appear- 
ance of  the  suitor  she  was  advocating,  and  was  just 
about  to  continue  her  machinations  by  further  en- 
thusiasm when,  from  down  the  road  at  the  Bosticks, 
came  Mother  Mayberry's  voice  calling  her,  and  like 
a  little  killdee  she  darted  away  to  the  aid  of  her 
confrere. 

And  for  several  long  minutes  Miss  Wingate  sat 
perfectly  still  and  looked  across  the  meadow  to  the 
sky-line  with  intent  eyes.  Teether  was  busily  en- 
gaged in  drawing  by  degrees  his  own  pink  toes  up 
to  his  rosy  lips  in  an  effort  to  get  his  foot  into  his 
mouth,  an  ambition  that  sways  most  mortals  from 
their  seventh  to  tenth  month.  A  thin  wraith  of  Miss 
Alford's  personality  had  been  drifting  through  the 
singer  lady's  consciousness  for  some  days,  but  she 
was  positively  stunned  at  this  sudden  materializa- 
tion. There  come  moments  in  the  lives  of  most 
women  when  they  get  glimpses  into  the  undiscov- 
ered land  of  their  own  hearts  and  are  appalled  there- 
by. Suddenly  she  hugged  the  chuckling  baby  very 

148 


THE    PROVIDENCE   TAG-GANG 

close  and  began  a  rapid  rocking  to  the  humming  ac- 
companiment of  a  rollicking  street  tune,  a  seemingly 
inexplicable  but  perfectly  natural  proceeding. 

"Well,  I'd  like  to  know  which  is  the  oldest,  you 
or  the  baby,  honey-bird!"  exclaimed  Mother  May- 
berry  as  she  came  up  the  steps  in  the  midst  of  the 
frolic.  "You  and  him  a-giggling  make  music  like 
a  nest  full  of  young  cat-birds.  Did  you  ever  notice 
how  'most  any  down-heart  will  get  up  and  go 
a-marching  to  a  laugh  tune?  I  needed  just  them 
chuckles  to  set  me  up  again."  As  she  finished 
speaking  Mother  Mayberry  seated  herself  on  the 
top  step  and  Miss  Wingate  slipped  down  beside  her 
with  the  baby  in  her  arms. 

"What  is  the  trouble  this  morning,  Mrs.  May- 
berry?"  she  asked,  as  she  moved  a  little  closer,  so 
Teether  could  reach  out  and  nozzle  against  Mother 
Mayberry's  shoulder.  "Anybody  sick?" 

"No,  not  to  say  sick  much,"  answered  Mother, 
with  a  touch  of  wist  fulness  in  her  gentle  eyes,  "but 
it  looks  like,  day  by  day,  I  can  see  Mis'  Bostick  slip- 
ping away  from  us,  same  as  one  of  the  white  garden 
lilies  what  on  the  third  day  just  closes  up  its  leaves 

149 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

when  you  ain't  looking  and  when  you  go  back  is 
gone." 

"She  isn't  so  old  she  can't — can't  recuperate  when 
the  lovely  warm  days  come  to  stay  this  summer,  is 
she?"  asked  the  singer  lady  with  a  quick  sympathy 
in  her  voice  and  eyes. 

"No,  she  ain't  so  old  as  to  die  by  old  age,  but 
what  hurts  me,  child,  is  that  it  is  just  her  broke 
heart  giving  out.  She  have  always  been  quiet  and 
gentle-smiling,  but  since  the  news  of  Will's  run- 
ning off  with  that  money  came  to  Providence  she 
have  just  been  fading  away.  A  mother's  heart 
don't  break  clean  over  a  child,  but  gets  a  jagged 
wound  that  won't  often  heal.  When  I  think  of 
her  suffering  it  puts  a  hitch  in  my  enjoying  of 
that  Tom  Mayberry."  And  Mother  blinked  away 
the  suspicion  of  a  tear. 

"But  Mrs.  Bostick  and  the  Deacon  both  are  so 
fond  of  Doctor  Mayberry  that  it  must  be  a  joy  to 
have  him  such  a  comfort  to  them,"  said  Miss  Win- 
gate  softly,  as  she  carried  one  of  Teether's  pink 
hands  to  her  lips. 

"Yes,  child,  I  know  he  is  all  that.  Somehow,  here 
150 


THE   PROVIDENCE   TAG-GANG 

in  Providence,  we  women  have  all  tried  to  put  some 
of  our  own  sister  love  for  one  another  in  our  young 
folks.  I  hold  that  when  the  whole  world  have 
learned  to  cut  sister  and  brother  deep  enough  into 
they  children's  hearts,  then  His  kingdom  is  a-going 
to  come  in  about  one  generation  from  them.  Now 
there's  a  picture  that  goes  on  the  page  with  my 
remarks !  Bettie  sure  do  look  pretty  with  that  white 
sunbonnet  on  her  head,  and  count  how  many  Turn- 
ers, Pratts,  Hoovers  and  Pikes  she  have  got  trailing 
peacefully  behind  her,  all  like  full-blood  brothers 
and  sisters.  I'm  so  glad  she's  a-bringing  her  sew- 
ing to  set  a  spell.  Come  in,  Bettie,  here's  a  rocker 
a-holding  out  arms  to  you!"  Little  Hoover  was  as 
usual  bobbing  in  Bettie's  arms  and  he  gurgled  at  the 
sight  of  Teether  Pike  as  if  in  joy  at  this  encounter 
with  his  side  partner  and  when  deposited  upon  the 
floor  beside  him  made  a  brotherly  grab  at  one  of 
young  Pike's  pink  feet  in  the  most  manifest  interest. 
"Well,  if  this  just  ain't  filling  at  the  price,"  said 
the  widow  as  she  settled  herself  in  the  rocker,  and 
Mother  Mayberry  established  herself  in  one  oppo- 
site, while  Miss  Wingate  elected  to  remain  on  the 


THE  ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

step  by  the  babies.  "I  left  Pattie  over  to  my  house 
helping  Clara  May  get  a  little  weed-pulling  outen 
'Lias  and  Henny  in  my  garden.  Buck  Peavey 
have  just  passed  by  looking  like  the  last  of  pea-time 
and  the  first  of  frost.  I  do  declare  it  were  right 
down  funny  to  see  Pattie  toss  her  head  at  him,  and 
them  boys  both  giggled  out  loud.  He  ain't  spoke  to 
Pattie  for  a  week  'cause  she  sang  outen  Sam  Mos- 
bey's  hymn-book  last  Wednesday  night  at  prayer 
meeting.  He've  got  a  long-meter  doxology  face  for 
sure." 

"And  he's  a-suffering,  too,"  answered  Mother 
Mayberry  with  the  utmost  sympathy  in  her  placid 
face  at  the  troubles  of  her  favorite,  Buck,  the  lover. 
"To  some  folks  love  is  a  kinder  inflammatory  rheu- 
matism of  the  soul  and  a-deserving  of  pity." 

A  vision  of  a  girl  at  a  college  commencement 
with  her  nose  buried  in  a  pink  peony,  looking  up 
and  smiling,  flashed  across  the  consciousness  of  the 
singer  lady  and  she  pressed  her  head  between  little 
Hoover's  chubby  shoulders,  and  acknowledged  her- 
self a  fit  subject  for  sympathy.  To  go  and  not 
even  think  of  telling  her  good-by  was  cruel,  and  a 

152 


THE    PROVIDENCE   TAG-GANG 

forlorn  little  sob  stifled  itself  in  the  mite's  pink 
apron. 

"Well,  folks,"  broke  in  the  widow's  cheerful 
voice  that  somehow  reminded  one  of  peaches  and 
cream,  "I  come  over  to-day  to  get  a  little  help  and 
encouragement  about  planning  the  wedding.  I 
knowed  Miss  Elinory  would  think  it  up  stylish  for 
me  and  Mis'  Mayberry  would  lend  her  head  to  help 
fitting  notions  to  what  can  be  did.  Mr.  Hoover's 
clover  hay  will  be  laid  by  next  week  and  he  says 
they  ain't  nothing  more  to  keep  us  back.  I've 
sewed  up  four  bolts  of  light  caliker,  two  of  domes- 
tic, one  of  blue  jeans,  and  three  of  gingham  into  a 
trousseau  for  us  all  to  wear  on  the  wedding  trip,  and 
Mr.  Petway  are  a-going  to  take  measures  and  bring 
out  new  shoes  and  tasty  hats  all  'round,  next  wagon 
trip  to  town.  I  think  we  will  make  a  nice  genteel 
show." 

"Are  you — going  to  take  everybody  on  the  trip  ?" 
asked  Miss  Wingate,  roused  out  of  her  woe  by  the 
very  idea  of  the  tour  in  the  company  of  the  seven- 
teen. 

"That  we  are,"  responded  the  widow  heartily,. 
153 


"but  not  all  to  onct.  We'll  have  to  make  two  bites 
of  the  cherry.  The  day  after  the  wedding  we  are 
a-going  to  take  the  two-horse  team,  a  trunk  and 
the  ten  youngest  and  go  a-visiting  over  the  Ridge 
at  Mr.  Hoover's  brother's,  Mr.  Biggers.  We  won't 
stay  more'n  a  week  and  stop  a  day  or  two  coming 
back  to  see  Andy  and  Carrie  Louise.  Then  we'll 
drop  the  little  ones  here  on  you  neighbors  and  pick 
up  the  seven  big  ones,  add  Buck  for  a  compliment 
and  go  on  down  to  the  City  for  two  days'  high 
jinlcs.  We're  going  to  take  'em  up  to  the  capitol 
and  over  the  new  bridge  and  we  hope  to  strike  some 
kind  of  band  music  going  on  somewhere  for  'em 
to  hear.  We  want  a  photy graft  group  of  us  all, 
too.  We  are  going  to  put  up  at  the  Teamsters' 
Hotel  up  on  the  Square  and  Mr.  Hoover  have  got 
party  rates.  He  says  he  are  a-going  to  get  that 
seven  town-broke  anyway,  if  it  costs  two  acres  of 
corn.  Now  won't  we  have  a  good  time?"  The 
bright  face  of  the  prospective  bride  fairly  radiated 
with  joy  at  the  prospect — Miss  Wingate  could  but 
be  sympathetically  involved,  and  Mother  Mayberry 
beamed  with  delight  at  the  plan. 

154 


THE    PROVIDENCE   TAG-GANG 

"That'll  be  a  junket  that  they  won't  never  a  one 
of  'em  forget,  Bettie!"  she  exclaimed  with  approval. 
"They  ain't  nothing  in  the  world  so  educating  as 
travel.  And  you  can  trust  a  country  child  to  see 
further  and  hear  more  than  any  other  animal  on 
earth.  I  wouldn't  trust  Tom  to  go  to  town  now 
without  coming  back  pop-eyed  over  the  ottermo- 
biles,"  and  Mother  Mayberry  laughed  at  her  own 
fling  at  the  sophisticated  young  Doctor.  Another 
dart  of  agony  entered  the  soul  of  the  singer  lady 
and  this  time  the  vision  of  the  girl  and  the  peony 
was  placed  in  a  big,  red  motor-car — why  red  she 
didn't  know,  except  the  intensity  of  her  feelings 
seemed  to  call  for  that  color.  She  was  his  patient 
and  courtesy  at  least  demanded  that  he  should  tell 
her  of  his  intended  absence.  What  could — 

"Well,  to  come  out  with  the  truth,"  Mrs.  Pratt 
was  going  on  to  say  by  the  time  Miss  Wingate 
brought  herself  to  the  point  of  listening  again,  "it's 
just  the  wedding  itself  that  have  gave  me  all  these 
squeems.  Why,  Mis'  Mayberry,  how  on  earth  are 
we  a-going  to  parade  all  the  seventeen  into  the 
Meeting-house  without  getting  the  whole  congrega- 

155 


tion  into  a  regular  giggle?  I  don't  care,  'cause  I 
-know  the  neighbors  wouldn't  give  us  a  mean  laugh, 
but  I  can  see  Mr.  Hoover  have  got  the  whole  seven- 
teen sticking  in  his  craw  at  the  thought,  and  I'm 
•downright  sorry  for  him." 

"Yes,  Bettie,  men  have  got  sensitive  gullets  when 
it  comes  to  swollering  a  joke  on  theyselves,"  said 
Mother  Mayberry,  as  she  joined  in  the  widow's 
merry  laugh  at  the  plight  of  the  embarrassed  wid- 
ower. "Looks  like  when  we  all  can  trust  Mr.  Hoover 
to  be  so  good  and  kind  to  you  and  your  children, 
after  he  have  done  waded  into  the  marrying  of  you, 
we  oughter  find  some  way  to  save  his  feelings  from 
being  mortified.  Can't  you  hatch  out  a  idea,  Eli- 
nory?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  know,  I  know  just  what  to  do — it 
came  to  me  in  a  flash!"  exclaimed  the  singer  lady 
with  pink-cheeked  enthusiasm  over  the  inspiration 
that  had  risen  from  the  depths  at  the  call  of  Mrs. 
Pratt  and  brought  her  up  to  the  surface  of  life  with 
it  for  a  moment  anyway.  "I  saw  a  wedding  once  in 
rural  England.  All  the  children  in  the  village  in  a 
double  line  along  the  path  to  the  church',  each  with 

156 


THE    PROVIDENCE   TAG-GANG 

baskets  of  flowers  from  which  they  threw  posies  in 
front  of  the  bride  as  she  came  by  them !  Let's  get  all 
the  children  together  and  mix  them  up  and  let  them 
stand  along  the  walk  to  the  church  door.  It  will  just 
make  a  beautiful  picture  with  no — no  thought  of 
— of  who  belongs  to  anybody.  Everybody  from 
Pattie  and  Buck  down  to  little  Bettie  and  Martin 
Luther!  Won't  it  be  lovely ?  I  can  show  them  just 
how  to  march  down  the  road  with  their  baskets- 
in  their  arms,  and  Mrs.  Pratt,  you  can  come  from 
your  house  with  the  Deacon  and  Mr.  Hoover  can 
come  out  of  the  back  of  the  store — with — with,  who 
is  going  to  be  his  groomsman  ?" 

"Lawsy  me,  I  hadn't  thought  of  that,"  answered 
the  widow.  "I'll  tell  you,  Mr.  Pratt's  brother  is 
coming  over  from  Bolivar  to  the  wedding,  and  as 
he  is  a-going  to  be  a  kinder  relation  in  law  by  two 
marriages  with  Mr.  Hoover,  I  think  it  would  be  nice 
to  ask  him." 

"Er — yes,"  assented  the  singer  lady,  controlling 
a  desire  to  smile  at  this  mix-up  of  the  bride's  present 
and  past  relations  to  life.  "The  little  girls  ought 
to  have  white  dresses  and  the  boys — well,  what 

157 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

could  the  little  boys  wear?"  Miss  Wingate  felt 
reasonably  sure  that  white  dresses  for  all  the  fem- 
inine youth  of  Providence  would  be  forthcoming, 
but  she  hesitated  at  suggesting  a  costume  for  the 
small  boys. 

"Yes,  all  the  little  girls  have  got  white  dresses 
and  ribbons  and  fixings,  but  dressing  up  a  herd  of 
boys  is  another  thing,"  answered  Mother  May- 
berry.  "If  just  blue  jeans  britches  could  be  made  to 
do  we  might  make  out  to  get  the  top  of  them  rigged 
out  in  a  white  shirt  apiece ;  couldn't  we,  Bettie  ?" 

"That  we  can,"  answered  the  bride  heartily. 
"Give  me  a  good  day  at  the  sewing-machine,  with 
somebody  to  cut  and  somebody  to  baste,  and  I  will 
get  'em  all  turned  out  by  sundown.  But  they  feet ! 
Mis'  Mayberry,  could  we  get  'em  into  shoes,  do  you 
reckon?  About  how  many  bad  stumped  toes  is 
they  in  Providence  now?" 

"Well,"  answered  Mother  Mayberry  reflectively, 
"I  don't  know  about  but  two,  but  we  can  ask  'Liza 
Pike.  Thank  you  for  your  plan,  honey-bird,  and 
we're  a-going  to  put  it  through  so  as  to  be  a  credit 

158 


THE    PROVIDENCE   TAG-GANG 

to  you.  Children  are  sorter  going  out  of  style  these 
days  and  I'm  proud  to  make  a  show  of  our'n. 
Women's  leaving  babies  outen  they  calculations  is 
kinder  like  cutting  buds  offen  the  tree  of  life,  and 
I'm  glad  no  sech  fashion  have  struck  Harpeth  Hills 
yet" 

"Now,  ain't  that  the  truth  ?"  exclaimed  the  Widow 
Pratt.  "Sometimes  when  I  read  some  of  the  truck 
about  what  women  have  took  a  notion  to  turn  out 
and  do  in  the  world,  I  get  right  skeered  about  what 
are  a-going  to  happen  to  the  babies  and  men  in  the 
time  to  come." 

"Don't  worry  about  'em,  Bettie,"  laughed  Mother 
Mayberry,  with  a  quizzical  sparkle  in  her  eyes. 
"Even  when  women  have  got  that  right  to  march  in 
the  front  rank  with  the  men  and  carry  some  of  the 
flags,  that  they  are  a-contending  for,  they'll  always 
be  some  foolish  enough  to  lag  behind  with  babies 
on  they  breasts,  a  string  of  children  following  and 
with  always  a  snack  in  her  pocket  to  feed  the  broke 
down  front-rankers,  men  or  women.  You'll  find 
most  Providence  women  in  that  tag-gang,  I'm  think- 

159 


THE  ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

ing;  but  let's  do  our  part  in  whooping  on  the  other 
sisters  that  have  got  wrongs  to  right." 

"I  suppose  the  world  really  has  done  women  in- 
justice in  lots  of  ways,"  said  the  singer  lady  plaint- 
ively, for  she  had  very  lately,  for  the  first  time  in 
her  life,  felt  the  sit-still-and-hold-your-hands-while- 
he-rides-away  grind,  and  it  had  struck  in  deep. 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  answered  Mother  Mayberry, 
as  she  picked  up  little  Hoover,  who  was  nodding  like 
a  top-heavy  petunia  in  a  breeze,  and  stretched  him 
across  her  lap  for  a  nap.  "But  as  long  as  she  have 
got  the  spanking  of  man  sprouts  from  they  one  to 
ten  years  she  oughter  make  out  to  get  in  a  vote  to 
suit  herself,  as  time  comes  along,  especially  if  she 
have  picked  her  husband  right." 

"She — she  can't — can't  pick  her  husband,"  haz- 
arded the  singer  lady  desperately. 

"Yes,  she  can,  honey-child,"  answered  Mother 
Mayberry  comfortably.  "The  smile  in  her  eye  and 
the  switch  of  her  skirts  is  a  woman's  borned-vote, 
and  she  can  elect  herself  wife  to  any  man  she  cares 
to  use  'em  on.  But  what  about  the  collation,  Bet- 
tie?  Everybody  is  going  to  help  you  with  the 

160 


THE    PROVIDENCE   TAG-GANG 

cooking  and  fixings,  and  let's  have  a  never-forget 
supper  this  onct." 

"That  we  are,"  answered  Mrs.  Pratt  emphatic- 
ally. "Mr.  Hoover  says  no  hand-around,  stand- 
around  for  him ;  he  wants  a  regular  laid  table  with  a 
knife  and  fork  set-down  to  it.  He  says  we  are 
a-going  to  feed  our  friends  liberal,  if  it  takes  three 
acres  of  timothy  hay  to  do  it,  and  he's  about  right. 
We'll  begin  thinking  about  that  and  deciding  what 
the  first  of  the  week.  But  I  must  be  a-going  to  see 
that  the  dinner  horn  blows  in  time.  I  want  to  get 
my  sparagrasses  extra  tender,  for  'Liza  have  notified 
me  that  she  is  going  to  stop  by  to-day  with  the 
covered  dish,  and  I  want  to  fill  it  tasty  for  her. 
Come  visiting  soon,  Miss  Elinory,  for  I've  got 
something  to  show  you  that  are  too  foolish  to  speak 
about  to  Mis'  Mayberry."  And  the  widow  gave  a 
delicious  little  giggle  as  she  lifted  the  sleeping  baby 
from  Mother  Mayberry's  lap  and  started  down  the 
steps. 

"Dearie  me,  Bettie,"  answered  Mother  with  a 
laugh,  "don't  you  know  that  poking  up  a  woman's 
curiosity  is  mighty  apt  to  start  a  yaller  jacket  to  buz- 

161 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

zing?     I'll  be  by  your  house  sometime  before  sun- 
down myself." 

"Some  women's  ship  of  life  is  a  steamboat  that 
stops  to  take  on  passengers  at  every  landing.  Bet- 
tie's  are  one  of  them  kind,  and  she'll  tie  up  with 
'em  all  in  glory  when  the  time  comes,"  remarked 
Mother  Mayberry  as  she  watched  the  sturdy  widow 
swing  away  down  the  Road  with  the  baby  asleep 
over  her  shoulder. 

Just  at  this  moment,  Cindy  found  occasion  to  sum- 
mon Mother  Mayberry  to  the  chicken  yard  on  ac- 
count of  a  dispute  that  had  arisen  between  old  Don> 
inick  and  one  of  the  ungallant  roosters  that  had 
resulted  in  an  injury  to  one  of  the  small  fry,  which 
lay  pitifully  cheeping  on  the  back  steps.  Dominick, 
with  every  feather  awry,  was  holding  command  of 
the  bowl  of  corn-meal  while  her  family  feasted,  and 
the  Plymouth  rooster  stood  at  a  respectful  distance 
with  a  weather  eye  on  both  the  determined  mother 
and  Cindy's  broom.  Retribution  in  the  form  of 
Mother  Mayberry  descended  upon  him  swiftly  and 
certainly,  and  he  lost  no  time  in  seeking  seclusion 
under  the  barn. 

162 


THE   PROVIDENCE   TAG-GANG 

And  by  the  time  order  and  peace  were  restored 
to  the  barn-yard,  Mother  came  in  to  dinner  and  spent 
an  hour  in  interested  hen-lore  with  the  singer  lady, 
who  was  really  fond  of  hearing  about  the  feathered 
families  when  she  saw  how  her  interest  in  them 
pleased  Mrs.  Mayberry.  The  subject  of  the  Doctor, 
his  absence  and  the  probable  time  of  his  return  was 
not  mentioned  by  his  mother,  and  for  the  life  of  her 
Miss  Wingate  could  not  muster  the  courage  for  a 
single  question.  She  felt  utterly  unable  to  stand 
even  the  most  mild  eulogy  on  the  peony-girl  and 
was  glad  that  nothing  occurred  to  turn  the  conver- 
sation in  that  direction.  She  was  silent  for  the 
most  part,  and  most  assiduous  in  her  attentions  to 
Martin  Luther,  whose  rapidly  filling  outlines  were 
making  him  into  a  chubby  edition  of  the  Raphaelite 
angel.  Martin  had  landed  in  the  garden  of  the 
gods  and  was  making  the  most  of  the  golden  days. 
He  bore  his  order  of  American  boyhood  with  jaunty 
grace,  and  the  curl  had  assumed  a  rampant  air  in 
place  of  the  pathetic. 

"Martin,  do  you  want  me  to  wash  your  face  and 
hands  and  come  go  visiting  with  me?"  asked  the 

'63 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

singer  lady,  as  she  stood  on  the  front  steps  and 
watched  Mother  Mayberry  depart  in  her  old  buggy 
on  the  way  to  visit  a  patient  over  the  Nob.  A  long, 
lonely  afternoon  was  more  than  she  could  face  just 
now,  and  she  felt  certain  that  distraction,  if  not 
amusement,  could  be  found  in  a  number  of  places 
along  the  Road. 

"Thank,  ma'am,  please,"  answered  Martin  Luth- 
er, who  still  clung  to  the  formula  that  he  had  found 
to  be  a  perfectly  good  open  sesame  to  most  of  the 
pleasant  things  of  life,  when  used  as  he  knew  how  to 
use  it. 

So,  taking  her  rose-garden  hat  in  one  hand  and 
Martin  Luther's  chubby  fist  in  the  other,  Miss  Win- 
gate  started  down  Providence  Road  for  a  series  of 
afternoon  calls,  at  the  fashionable  hour  of  one-thirty. 
She  was  just  passing  by  Mrs.  Peavey's  gate  with 
no  earthly  thought  of  going  in  when  she  beheld  the 
disconsolate  Buck  stretched  full  length  on  the  grass 
under  a  tree,  which  was  screened  by  a  large  syringa 
bush  from  the  front  windows  of  the  maternal  resi- 
dence. A  hoe  rested  languidly  beside  him,  and  it 
was  a  plain  case  of  farm  hookey. 

164 


THE    PROVIDENCE   TAG-GANG 

"Oh,  Miss  Elinory,"  called  his  mother  from  the 
side  steps,  "did  Mis'  Mayberry  hear  about  that  fire 
down  in  town  that  burned  up  two  firemen,  a  police 
and  a  woman?"  At  the  sound  of  his  mother's  stri- 
dent voice,  Buck  curled  up  in  a  tight  knot  and  with 
a  despairing  glance  rolled  under  the  bush. 

"I  don't  know,  Mrs.  Peavey,  but  I'll  tell  her," 
Miss  Wingate  called  back  as  she  prepared  to  hasten 
on  for  fear  Mrs.  Peavey  would  come  to  the  gate 
for  further  parley,  and  thus  discover  the  exhausted 
culprit. 

"And  a  man  tooken  pisen  on  account  of  a  bank's 
failing  in  Louisville,"  she  added  in  a  still  shriller 
tone,  which  just  did  carry  across  the  distance  to 
Mrs.  Pike's  front  door,  through  which  Miss  Win- 
gate  was  disappearing.  Her  prompt  flight  had  saved 
the  day  for  the  disconsolate  lover,  who  cautiously 
rolled  from  under  the  bush  again  and  went  on  with 
his  interrupted  nap. 

She  found  Mrs.  Pike  and  Miss  Prissy  at  home, 
and  spent  a  really  delightful  hour  in  speculating  and 
unfolding  possible  plans  for  the  Pratt-Hoover  nup- 
tials. Miss  Prissy  blushed  and  giggled  at  an  ele- 

165 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

phantine  attempt  at  badinage  that  her  sister-in-law 
directed  at  her  on  the  subject  of  Mr.  Petway,  and 
after  a  while  Miss  Wingate  went  on  her  way,  in  a 
manner  comforted  by  their  wholesome  merriment. 
She  hesitated  at  the  front  gate  of  the  Tutt  residence, 
but  the  sight  of  the  Squire  pottering  around  in  a 
diminutive  garden  at  the  side  of  the  house  decided 
her  to  enter,  for  Squire  Tutt  held  the  charm  for 
her  that  a  still-fused  fire-cracker  holds  for  a  small 
boy. 

"I  ain't  well  at  all,"  he  exploded,  in  answer  to 
her  polite  question,  asked  in  the  meekest  of  voices. 
"Don't  you  set  up  to  marry  Tom  Mayberry,  girl, 
if  you  don't  wanter  get  a  numbskull.  Told  me  to 
eat  a  passel  of  raw  green  stuff  for  my  liver,  like 
I  was  a  head  of  cattle.  I'll  die  if  I  follow  him. 
Everybody  he  doctors'll  die.  Snake  bite  is  the 
only  thing  he  knows  how  to  cure,  and  snakes  don't 
crawl  until  the  last  of  the  month.  Don't  marry  him, 
I  say,  don't  marry  him !" 

And  it  took  Miss  Wingate  several  minutes  after 
her  hurried  adieus  to  get  over  the  effect  of  the 
Squire's  inhibitory  caution.  But  the  haven  for 

166 


"Don't  you  set  up  to  marry  Tom  Mayberry,  girl"    Page  166          / 


THE   PROVIDENCE   TAG-GANG 

which  she  had  been  instinctively  aiming  was  just 
across  the  Road,  and  she  found  a  peace  and  quiet 
which  sank  into  her  perturbed  soul  like  a  benedic- 
tion. The  Deacon  sat  by  Mrs.  Bostick's  bed  with 
his  Bible  across  his  thin  old  knees,  and  Eliza  was 
crouched  on  the  floor  just  in  front  of  him,  with 
her  knees  in  her  embrace  and  her  eyes  fixed  on  his 
gentle  face.  Little  Bettie  Pratt  lay  across  Mrs. 
Jostick's  bed,  deep  in  her  afternoon  nap,  and  Henny 
Turner  "was  stretched  out  full  length  on  the  floor 
in  front  of  the  window,  while  'Lias  sat  with  his 
back  against  the  wall  with  the  puppy  in  his  arms. 
The  pale  face  of  the  sweet  invalid  was  lit  by  a 
gentle  smile,  and  she  held  one  of  the  sleeping  child's 
warm  little  hands  in  her  frail,  knotted,  old  fingers. 
Unnoticed,  Miss  Wingate  and  Martin  Luther  paused 
a  moment  at  the  door. 

"Golly,  Deacon,  but  didn't  he  do  him  up  at  one 
shot,  and  nothing  but  a  little  piece  of  rock  in  the 
gum-sling!"  exclaimed  'Lias  in  excitement  over 
the  climax  of  the  tale  the  Deacon  had  just  com- 
pleted. "I  wisht  I  was  that  strong!" 

"It  was  the  strength  the  Lord  gived  to  him, 
167 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

'Lias  Hoover,  to  special  kill  the  giant  with,"  said 
Eliza  in  an  argumentative  tone  of  voice.  "Do  you 
reckon  He  tooken  the  strength  away  from  David 
the  next  morning,  Deacon,  or  let  him  keep  it  to 
use  all  the  time?"  Eliza's  extreme  practicality 
showed  at  all  times,  even  in  those  of  deepest  ex- 
citement. 

The  Deacon  was  saved  the  strain  of  intellect  in- 
volved in  making  reply  to  this  demand  by  his  wife's 
low  exclamation  of  pleasure  as  she  caught  sight  of 
the  girl  and  the  tot  in  the  doorway.  She  smiled 
softly  as  the  singer  lady  seated  herself  on  the  side 
of  the  bed  and  took  both  her  hand  and  that  of  the 
sleeping  baby  in  a  firm,  young  one.  A  peculiar  bond 
of  sympathy  had  arisen  between  the  girl  and  the 
gentle  old  invalid,  both  fighting  pain  and  anxiety. 
Mrs.  Bostick  would  lie  for  hours  drinking  in  tales  of 
Miss  Wingate's  travels  in  the  world,  which  she  had 
timidly  but  eagerly  asked  for  from  the  beginning 
of  their  friendship.  The  girl  knew  that  the  anxious 
mother-heart  'was  using  her  descriptions  to  fare 
forth  on  quests  for  the  wanderer  into  the  wide 
world  beyond  the  Harpeth  Hills,  that  had  all  her 

1 68 


THE    PROVIDENCE   TAG-GANG 

life  bounded  her  horizon,  and  she  sat  by  her  long 
hours,  leading  the  way  into  the  uttermost  parts. 

After  a  fatherly  greeting,  the  Deacon  departed 
with  the  children  to  his  bench  under  the  trees  and 
left  the  two  alone  for  their  talk,  and  the  long  shad- 
ows were  stretched  across  the  Road  and  the  sun 
sinking  beyond  the  Ridge  before  the  singer  lady 
wended  her  way  dejectedly  home  with  the  play- 
wearied  Martin  Luther  trailing  beside  her.  She 
found  Mother  May  berry,  much  to  her  relieved  as- 
tonishment, placidly  rocking  in  her  accustomed 
place,  with  her  palm-leaf  ruffling  the  water-waves 
and  a  fresh  lawn  tie  blowing  in  the  breeze. 

"Come  in,  honey-hearts,"  she  said  eagerly,  with 
bright  tenderness  shining  in  her  face  for  the  girl 
and  the  barefoot  young  pilgrim;  "I  have  been  set- 
ting here  a-missing  you  both  for  a  hour.  With 
you  and  my  young  mission  boy  both  gone  I'm 
like  an  old  hawk-robbed  hen.  I  knew  you  was 
with  Mis'  Bostick,  and  I  didn't  come  for  you  'cause 
somehow  them  rocking-chair-bed  travels  you  and  her 
take  seems  to  comfort  her.  I  wouldn't  interrupt 
one  of  'em  for  the  world,  though  I  was  getting 

169 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

plumb  lonesome.  I  was  even  a-hankering  after  that 
Tom  Mayberry  what  I  left  not  over  two  hours  ago." 

"Has  the  Doctor  come  back  from  the  City  this 
soon?"  demanded  the  singer  lady,  with  a  queer 
thump  in  her  cardiac  region  that  almost  smothered 
her  voice. 

"Well  now,  to  tell  the  truth,  Tom  Mayberry 
haven't  been  to  no  City,"  answered  his  mother  with 
a  chuckle  as  she  looked  at  Miss  Wingate  over  Mar- 
tin Luther's  head  on  her  shoulder  where  he  had 
buried  it  with  a  demand  for  "milk,  milk,  thank 
ma'am,  please."  "I  don't  think  he  wants  you  to  know 
what  he  have  been  having  happen  to  him,  but  I  can't 
keep  from  telling  you  'cause  I'm  tickled  clean  to  my 
funny  bone.  Dave  Hanks  come  over  here  at  day- 
light wanting  a  doctor  quick,  and  I  had  a  cramp  in 
my  leg  what  I  forgot  to  tie  a  yarn  string  around  be- 
fore I  went  to  bed,  so  I  had  to  let  Tom  hurry  on  over 
there  'count  of  the  push  they  was  in.  Then  I  got 
to  studying  it  over  and  while  I  knewed  how  Tom 
had  had  a  lot  of  practice  in  such  things  in  a  hos- 
pital, I  thought  it  was  just  as  well  to  let  him  get  a 
little  Harpeth  experience  along  that  line  and  sorter 

170 


THE    PROVIDENCE   TAG-GANG 

prove  his  character  to  Squire  Tutt  and  the  rest. 
About  dinner  time,  though,  I  got  sorry  for  him 
and  hitched  up  and  went  over  there  to  see  how  they 
was  a-getting  along,  without  telling  you  or  Cindy 
anything  about  it.  And  what  did  I  find?  That 
Tom  Mayberry  and  Dave  Hanks  out  on  the  back 
porch,  Dave  taking  a  drink  outen  a  bottle  and  Tom 
with  two  babies  wrapped  up  in  a  shawl  showing 
'em  to  a  neighbor  woman,  proud  as  a  peacock  over 
'em.  He  most  dropped  'em  when  he  seen  me  and  I 
promised  not  to  tell  you  about  it  at  all,  but  if  you 
coulder  seen  him !"  And  the  tried  and  proven  young 
yEsculapius'  mother  fairly  rolled  in  her  chair  with 
mirth  at  the.  recollection. 

"Oh,"  gasped  the  singer  girl,  as  she  sank  weakly 
down  upon  the  top  step  and  leaned  her  head  against 
the  convenient  post.  "It  was  awful — I — I — "  she 
caught  herself  quickly  in  the  expression  of  the  in- 
tensity of  her  relief. 

"No,  it  wasn't  awful,"  answered  Mother  May- 
berry,  fortunately  losing  the  trend  of  the  exclama- 
tion. "They  are  mighty  sweet  little  babies,  both  girls. 
The  joke  is  mostly  on  me  getting  uneasy  and  follow- 

171 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

ing  Tom  up.  When  I  pick  out  his  wife,  I  must  be 
sure  and  see  she  are  a  girl  what  don't  worry  none 
about  what  he  is  up  to.  A  trouble-hunting  wife  is 
a  rock  sinker  to  any  man,  but  around  a  doctor's  neck 
she'll  finish  him  quick.  Don't  let  on  to  the  shame- 
faced thing  when  he  comes!  He  asked  me  what 
you'd  been  a-doing  all  day,  and  I  told  him  I  thought 
maybe  you  had  a  few  custards  in  your  mind  for 
him  to-night  when  he  gets  back  from  Flat  Rock. 
Don't  you  want  to  beat  up  some  with  Cindy's  help  ? 
And  they  is  a  bunch  of  pink  peonies  he  sent  you 
from  Mis'  Hank's  bushes,  sticking  in  a  bucket  on 
the  back  porch.  Pin  one  in  your  hair  to  sorter 
compliment  him  after  all  the  trouble  he  have  had 
this  day,  poor  Tom!" 


172 


CHAPTER  VII 
PRETTY  BETTIE'S  WEDDING  DAY 

AMD  even  old  Dame  Nature  of  Harpeth  Hills 
aroused  herself  for  the  occasion  and  took  in 
hand  the  wedding  day  of  pretty  Bettie  Pratt  on 
Providence  Road.  In  the  dark  hours  before  dawn 
she  spread  a  light  film  of  clouds  over  the  stars,  from 
which  she  first  puffed  a  stiff  dust-cleansing  breeze 
and  then  proceeded  to  sprinkle  a  good  washing 
shower  which  took  away  the  last  trace  of  wear  and 
tear  of  the  past  hot  days,  so  by  the  time  she  brought 
the  sun  out  for  a  final  shine  up,  the  village  looked 
like  it  had  been  having  a  most  professional  launder- 
ing. And  after  an  hour  or  two  of  his  warm  en- 
couragement, the  roses  lifted  their  buds  and  began 
to  blow  out  with  joyous  exuberance.  Mother  May- 
berry's  red-musks  tumbled  over  the  wall  almost  on ' 
to  the  head  of  Mrs.  Peavey's  yellow-cluster,  and 
Judy  Pike's  pink-cabbage  fairly  flung  blossoms  and 
buds  over  into  the  Road.  The  widow's  own  moss- 

173 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

damask  nodded  and  beckoned  hospitably  to  Mrs. 
Tutt's  Maryland  tea,  and  Pattie  Hoover's  Maiden's 
Blush  mingled  its  sweetness  with  that  of  the  dainty 
white-cluster  that  climbed  around  Mrs.  Bostick's 
window.  A  haunting  perfume  from  the  new-mown 
clover  fields  drifted  over  it  all  and  the  glistening 
silver  poplar  leaves  danced  in  the  breezes. 

"Was  they  ever  such  a  day  before!"  exclaimed 
Mother  Mayberry  as  she  stood  on  the  front  steps 
with  the  singer  lady,  who  was  as  blooming  herself 
as  any  rose  on  the  Road.  "And  everything  is  well 
along  towards  ready  when  it's  turned  twelve.  The 
children  have  all  been  washed  from  skin  out  and  just 
need  a  last  polish-off.  I've  put  'em  all  on  honor  not 
to  get  dirty  again  and  I  think  every  shoe  will  be  on 
by  marching  time." 

"The  baskets  and  the  tubs  of  roses  are  in  the  milk 
house,  and  I  will  arrange  them  at  the  last  minute 
so  they  won't  wilt,"  answered  Miss  Wingate  with 
enthusiasm  that  matched  Mother  Mayberry's.  "Do 
you  suppose  there  is  anything  I  can  do  to  help  any- 
body anywhere?  I  never  was  so  excited  before." 

"I  don't  believe  they  is  a  loose  end  to  tie  up  on 
174 


PRETTY   BETTIE'S    WEDDING   DAY 

the  Road,  child.  Even  Bettie  herself  have  finished 
for  the  day  and  have  gone  over  to  set  a  quiet  hour 
with  Mis'  Bostick.  Clothes  is  all  laid  out  on  beds, 
and  cold  lunch  snacks  put  on  kitchen  tables.  They 
ain't  to  be  a  dinner  cooked  on  the  Road  this  day  'cept 
what  'Liza  and  Cindy  are  a-stewing  up  for  the  Dea- 
con and  Mis'  Bostick.  Looks  like  everything  is  on 
greased  wheels,  and — but  there  comes  the  child  run- 
ning now !  I  do  hope  they  haven't  nothing  flew  the 
track." 

"Mother  Mayberry,  please  ma'am,  tell  me  what  to 
do  about  Mis'  Tutt!"  Eliza  exclaimed  with  anxiety 
spread  all  over  her  little  face,  which  was  given  a 
comic  cast  by  a  row  of  red  flannel  rags  around  her 
head  over  which  were  rolled  prospective  curls,  due 
to  float  out  for  the  festivities.  "She  says  she  won't 
go  to  the  wedding  'cause  it's  prayer  meeting  night, 
and  it  were  a  sin  to  put  off  the  Lord's  meeting  'till 
to-morrow  night.  I  didn't  know  she  were  a-going  to 
do  this  way !  I  got  out  her  dress  for  her  yesterday. 
The  Squire  is  so  mad  he  says  tell  Doctor  Tom  to 
come  do  something  for  him  quick  and  not  to  bring 
no  hot  water  kettle  neither." 

175 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

"Dearie  me,"  said  Mother  Mayberry  with  mild 
exasperation  in  her  voice.     "You  run  along,  'Liza, 
and  don't  you  worry  with  Mis'   Tutt.     I'll  come 
down  there  tereckly  and  see  if  I  can't  kinder  per- 
suade her  some.  Go  around  there  and  give  that  mes- , 
sage  to  Doctor  Tom  yourself.  I  don't  take  no  stock  t 
in  such  doctoring  as  he  does  to  the  Squire  these 
days." 

"Isn't  it  too  bad  for  Mrs.  Tutt  to  feel  that  way 
and  miss  the  wedding?"  asked  Miss  Wingate  with  a 
trace  of  the  same  exasperation  in  her  voice  that  had 
sounded  in  Mother  Mayberry's  tones. 

"It  are  that,"  answered  Mother  regretfully. 
"Looks  like  religion  oughter  be  tooken  as  a  cooling 
draft  to  the  soul  and  not  stuck  on  life  like  a  fly 
blister.  But  I  think  we  can  kinder  fix  Mis'  Tutt 
some.  And  that  reminds  me,  I  want  you  to  under- 
take a  job  of  using  a  little  persuading  on  Tom  May- 
berry  for  me.  He  have  got  the  most  lovely  long 
tail  coat,  gray  britches,  gray  vest  and  high  silk 
hat  up  in  his  press,  and  he  says  he  are  a-going  to 
wear  his  blue  Sunday  clothes  same  as  usual,  when  I 
asked  him  careless  like  about  it  this  morning.  I'm 

176 


PRETTY   BETTIE'S    WEDDING   DAY 

fair  dying  to  behold  him  just  onct  in  them  good 
clothes  he  wears  out  in  the  big  world  and  thinks 
Providence  people  will  make  fun  of  him  to  see,  but 
I  wouldn't  ask  him  outright  to  put  'em  on  for  me, 
not  for  nothing." 

"Do  you  know,  Mrs.  Mayberry,  you  really — 
really  flirt  with  the  Doctor?"  laughed  Miss  Wingate 
as  she  rubbed  her  delicate  little  nose  against  Mother 
Mayberry's  shoulder  with  Teether  Pike's  exact  noz- 
zling  gesture. 

"Well,  it's  a  affair  that  have  been  a-going  on  since 
the  first  time  I  laid  eyes  on  Ugly,  and  they  ain't 
nothing  ever  a-going  to  stop  it  'lessen  his  wife  ob- 
jects," answered  Mother  Mayberry  as  she  glanced 
down  quizzically  at  the  face  against  her  shoulder. 

"She's  sure  to — to  adore  it,"  answered  the  singer 
lady  as  she  buried  her  head  in  Mother's  tie  so 
only  the  rosy  back  of  her  neck  showed. 

"Yes,  I  think  she  will  understand,"  answered  the 
Doctor's  mother  with  a  sweet  note  in  her  rich  voice 
as  she  bestowed  a  little  hug  on  the  slender  body 
pressed  close  to  hers.  "You  see,  child,  the  tie  twixt 
a  woman  and  her  own  man-child  ain't  like  anything 

177 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

on  earth,  and  I  feel  it  must  hold  between  Mary  and 
her  Son  in  Heaven.  I  felt  it  pull  close  like  steel 
when  mine  weren't  fifteen  minutes  old,  and  it  won't 
die  when  I  do  neither.  And  that  Tom  Mayberry 
are  so  serious  that  a-flirting  with  him  gets  him  sorter 
on  his  blind  side  and  works  to  a  finish.  Can't  you 
try  to  help  me  out  about  that  coat  and  the  silk  hat?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Miss  Wingate  with  a  dimpling 
smile,  "I'll  try.  I'll  ask  him  what  I  shall  wear  and 
then  maybe — maybe — " 

"That's  the  very  idea,  honey-bird!"  exclaimed 
Mother  Mayberry  delightedly.  "Tell  him  you  are 
a-going  to  put  on  your  best  bib  and  tucker  and  it'll 
start  the  notion  in  him  to  keep  you  company.  If  a 
woman  can  just  make  a  man  believe  his  vanity  are 
proper  pride,  he  will  prance  along  like  the  trick  horse 
in  a  circus.  Now  s'pose  you  kinder  saunter  round 
careless  like  to — " 

"Mis'  Mayberry,"  came  in  a  doleful  voice  over  the 
wall  near  the  porch,  and  Mrs.  Peavey's  mournful 
face  appeared,  framed  in  the  lilac  bushes.  "I've  just 
been  reading  the  Tuesday  Bolivar  Herald,  and  Bettie 
Pratt's  own  first  husband's  sister-in-law's  child  died 

178 


PRETTY   BETTIE'S    WEDDING   DAY 

last  week  out  in  Californy,  where  she  moved  when 
she  married  the  second  time.  I  hate  to  tell  Bettie 
and  have  the  wedding  stopped,  but  I  feel  it  are  my 
;  duty  not  to  let  her  pay  no  disrespect  to  her  Turner 
children  by  having  a  wedding  with  some  of  they 
law-kin  in  trouble-" 

"Well,  Hettie  Ann,  I  don't  believe  I'd  tell  her,  for 
as  bad  as  that  would  be  on  the  Turner  children, 
think  how  much  the  Pratts  and  Hoovers  would  lose 
in  pleasure,  so  as  they  are  the  majority,  it's  only  fair 
they  should  rule."  Mother  Mayberry  had  for  a  mo- 
ment stood  aghast  at  the  idea  of  the  misanthrope's 
descent  upon  happy  Bettie  with  even  this  long  dis- 
tance shadow  to  cast  across  her  joy,  but  dealing 
with  her  neighbor  for  years  had  sharpened  her  wits 
and  she  knew  that  a  sense  of  fair  play  was  one  of 
Mrs.  Peavey's  redeeming  traits  that  could  always 
be  counted  upon. 

"Yes,  I  reckon  that  are  so,"  she  answered  grudg- 
ingly. "Then  we'll  have  to  keep  the  bad  news  to 
tell  her  when  she  gets  back  from  the  trip.  Did  you 
know  that  spangled  Wyandotte  hen  have  deserted  all 
them  little  chickens  and  is  a-laying  again  out  in  the 

179 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

weeds  behind  the  bam?  Told  you  them  foreign 
poultry  wasn't  no  good,"  with  which  she  disap- 
peared behind  the  top  stone  of  the  wall. 

"Poor  Spangles !  she  carried  them  chickens  a  week 
longer  than  could  be  expected  and  now  don't  get  no 
credit  for  it,"  said  Mother  Mayberry,  as  the  singer 
lady  gave  vent  to  the  giggle  she  had  been  suppress- 
ing for  a  good  many  minutes.  "Now  run  on,  sweet 
child,  and  use  them  beguilements  on  Tom  for  me, 
while  I  go  try  to  rub  some  liniment  on  Mis'  Tutt's 
conscience.  Fill  up  Martin  Luther  sometime  soon, 
will  you  ?" 

And  in  accordance  with  directions,  after  a  few 
minutes  spent  before  Mother  May  berry's  old-fash- 
ioned mirror  in  tucking  three  very  perfect  red-musk 
buds  in  the  belt  of  her  white  linen  gown,  the  singer 
lady  descended  upon  the  unwitting  victim  in  the 
north  wing  and  began  the  machinations  according  to 
promise.  Doctor  Mayberry,  unfortunately  for  him, 
showed  extravagant  signs  of  delight  at  the  very  sight 
of  the  enemy,  for  it  was  almost  the  first  voluntary 
visit  she  had  ever  paid  him,  and  thus  he  gave  her  the 
advantage  to  start  with. 

1 80 


PRETTY    BETTIE'S    WEDDING   DAY 

"You  aren't  busy,  are  you?"  she  asked  as  she 
glanced  around  the  book-lined  room  and  into  the 
laboratory  beyond.  "This  is  only  a  semi-profes- 
sional consultation.  Could  I  stay  just  a  few  min- 
utes?" and  the  lift  of  her  dark  lashes  from  her  eyes 
was  most  effectively  unfair.  As  she  spoke  she  set- 
tled herself  in  his  chair,  while  he  leaned  against  the 
table  looking  down  upon  her  with  a  very  shy  delight 
in  his  gray  eyes  and  a  very  decided  color  in  his  tan 
cheeks. 

"As  long  as  you  will,"  he  answered.  "I  never 
can  prescribe  from  a  hurried  consultation.  It  al- 
ways takes  several  hours  for  me  to  locate  anything. 
I'm  very  slow,  you  know." 

"Why,  I  rather  thought  you  treated  your  patients 
with — with  very  little  time  spent  in  consultation," 
a  remark  which  she,  herself,  knew  to  be  a  dastardly 
manoeuver.  "You  attended  to  Squire  Tutt's 
trouble  in  a  very  few  minutes,  it  seems,"  she  hastened 
to  add,  as  she  glanced  at  a  flask  that  lay  on  the  cor- 
ner of  the  table. 

"The  Squire's  trouble  is  chronic,  and  simply  calls 
for  refilled  prescriptions,"  he  laughed,  his  generosity 

181 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

giving  over  the  retort  that  was  his  due.  "I  somehow 
think  this  matter  of  yours  will  prove  obscure  and 
will  call  for  time." 

"It's  a  wedding  dress  I  want  you  to  prescribe  for 
me,"  she  hazarded  a  bit  too  hurriedly,  for  before 
she  could  catch  up  with  her  own  words  he  had 
flashed  her  an  answer. 

"That  depends!"  was  the  victim's  most  skilful 
parry. 

"Would  you  wear  a  white  embroidery  and  lace  or 
a  rose  batiste  ?  A  rose  hat  and  parasol  go  with  the 
batiste,  but  the  white  is  perfectly  delicious.  You 
haven't  seen  either  one,  so  I  want  you  to  choose  by 
guess."  Only  the  slightest  rose  signal  in  her  cheeks 
showed  that  she  had  been  pricked  by  his  quick 
thrust.  She  had  taken  one  of  the  damask  buds 
from  her  belt  and  was  daintily  nibbling  at  the  folded 
leaves.  Over  it,  her  eyes  dared  him  to  follow  up  his 
advantage. 

"I  don't  know — I'll  have  to  think  about  it,"  he  an- 
swered her,  weakly  capitulating,  but  still  on  guard. 
"If  I  choose  one  for  to-day,  when  will  you  wear  the 
other?  Soon  ?"  he  bargained  for  his  forbearance. 

182 


PRETTY   BETTIE'S    WEDDING   DAY 

"Whenever  you  want  me  to  if  you'd  like  to  see  it," 
she  answered  with  what  he  ought  to  have  known 
was  dangerous  meekness.  "What  are  you  going  to 
wear?"  she  asked,  putting  the  direct  question  with 
disarming  boldness. 

"Blue  serge  Sunday-go-to-meetings,"  he  answered 
carelessly,  as  if  it  were  a  matter  to  be  dismissed 
with  the  statement.  "Let's  see — say  them  over 
again — white  dress,  pink  parasol,  rose  hat,  how  did 
they  go  ?" 

"Once,  not  long  ago,  I  was  in  your  room  with 
Mrs.  Mayberry  hunting  for  the  kittens  the  yellow 
cat  had  hidden  in  the  house,  and  I  caught  a  glimpse 
of  a  most  beautiful  frock  coat — it  made  me  feel 
partyfied  then,  and  I  thought  of  the  rose  gown  I  have 
never  worn  and — and — "  she  paused  to  let  that  much 
sink  in  well.  "I  thought  I  would  ask  you,"  she 
ended  in  a  pensive  tone,  as  she  kept  her  eyes  fixed  on 
the  rose  determinedly. 

"You  don't  have  to  ask  me  things — just  tell  me !" 
he  answered  with  an  exquisite  hint  of  something  in 
his  voice  which  he  quickly  controlled.  "The  frock 
coat  let  it  be — and  shall  we  say  the  rose  gown? 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

Then  the  high  gods  protect  Providence  when  it  be- 
holds !"  he  added  with  a  laugh. 

"Oh,  will  you  really?"  she  asked,  overwhelmed 
with  the  ease  with  which  the  battle  had  been  won. 

"I  will,"  he  answered,  "only  don't  let  Mother  tease 
me,  please!" 

At  which  pathetically  ingenuous  demand  the  con- 
quering singer  lady  tossed  him  the  rose  and  laughed 
long  and  merrily. 

"You  and  your  Mother  are  perfect — "  she  was 
observing  with  delighted  dimples,  when  Mother 
Mayberry  herself  stood  in  the  doorway  with  well- 
concealed  eagerness  as  to  the  outcome  of  the  mis- 
sion, in  her  face. 

"Well,"  she  observed  with  a  laugh,  "I'm  glad  to 
see  somebody  that  has  time  to  stand-around,  set- 
around,  passing  the  news  of  the  day.  Did  you  all 
know  that  Bettie  Pratt  were  a-going  to  get  married 
in  about  two  hours  and  a  half?" 

"We  did,"  answered  her  son  as  he  drew  her 
a  chair  close  to  that  of  Miss  Wingate.  "We 
were  just  discussing  in  what  garb  we  could  best 

184 


PRETTY   BETTIE'S    WEDDING   DAY 

grace  the  occasion.  Did  you  succeed  in  getting 
Mrs.  Tutt  to  change  her  mind  about  honoring  the 
festivities?" 

"Oh,  yes,  she  just  wanted  to  be  persuaded  some. 
It's  a  mighty  dried-up  mind  that  can't  leaf  out  in  a 
change  onct  in  a  while,  and  it's  mostly  men  folks 
that  take  a  notion,  then  petrify  to  stone  in  it.  But 
you  all  oughter  see  what  is  a-going  on  down  the 
Road." 

"What?"  they  both  demanded  of  her  at  the  same 
second. 

"It's  that  'Liza  Pike  again.  Just  as  soon  as  that 
child  hatches  a  idea,  the  whole  town  takes  to  help- 
ing her  feather  it  out.  She  got  Mis'  Bostick's  bed 
moved  to  the  front  window,  and  then  found  that 
Nath  Mosbey's  fence  kept  her  from  seeing  the  Road 
where  the  procession  are  a-going  into  the  Meeting- 
house yard.  But  that  didn't  down  her  none  at  all, 
for  when  I  left  she  had  Nath  and  Buck  and  Mr. 
Pet  way  a-knocking  down  the  two  panels  of  fence, 
and  leaving  Mis'  Bostick  a  clean  sweep  of  view. 
Did  you  ever?"  and  mother  Mayberry  chuckled  over 
the  small  sister's  triumph  over  what  to  the  rest  of 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

Providence  would  have  seemed  an  insurmountable 
obstacle. 

"It's  just  like  her,  the  darling!"  exclaimed  the 
singer  lady  appreciatively. 

"And  she  have  got  the  Deacon  all  tucked  out  until 
he  is  a  sight  to  behold.  She  have  made  Mis'  Peavey 
starch  his  white  tie  until  it  sets  out  on  both  sides 
like  cat  whiskers,  and  have  pinned  a  bokay  on  his 
coat  'most  as  big  as  the  bride's.  Then  she  have 
reached  his  forelock  up  on  his  head  so  he  looks  like 
Martin  Luther,  and  she  have  got  him  a-settin'  down, 
so  as  not  to  get  out  of  gear  none.  Mis'  Bostick  is 
a-wearing  a  little  white  rose  pinned  on  her  night- 
gown, and  they  is  honeysuckle  trailed  all  over  the 
bed.  But  here  am  I  a-chavering  with  you  all,  with 
time  a-flying  and  no  chance  of  putting  salt  on  her 
tail  this  day.  Please,  Tom  Mayberry,  go  down  to 
the  store  and  buy  a  nickel's  worth  of  starch,  and  it's 
none  of  your  business  how  I  want  to  use  it.  I'm 
going  to  look  a  surprise  for  you  myself,  before  sun- 
down." 

"Well,  how  did  you  get  along  with  him,  honey- 
bird  ?"  she  asked  eagerly,  as  they  ascended  the  front 

186 


PRETTY    BETTIE'S    WEDDING   DAY 

steps  together,  while  the  Doctor  strode  down  the 
Road  on  his  errand. 

"Beautifully!"  exclaimed  the  singer  lady  with  en- 
thusiasm and  the  very  faintest  of  blushes. 

"I  thought  so  from  his  looks,"  answered  the  be- 
guiled young  Doctor's  wily  mother.  "A  man  always 
do  have  that  satisfied  martyr-smile  when  he  thinks 
he  are  doing  something  just  to  please  a  woman. 
Now,  honey-child,  you  ain't  got  nothing  to  do  but 
frill  out  your  own  sweet  self ;  and  make  a  job  of  it 
while  you  are  about  it."  With  which  command 
Mother  Mayberry  dismissed  Miss  Wingate  up  the 
stairs  to  her  dormer-window  room. 

And  it  is  safe  to  say  that  no  two  such  teeming 
hours  ever  fleeted  their  seconds  away  on  Providence 
Road  as  did  those  ensuing.  The  whole  village 
buzzed  and  bumbled  and  swarmed  in  and  out  from 
house  to  house  like  a  colony  of  clover-drunken  bees 
on  an  August  afternoon.  Laughter  floated  on  the 
air  and  mingled  with  banter  and  song,  while  the 
aroma,  of  flesh  pots  and  fine  spices  drifted  from 
huge  waiters  being  hurriedly  carried  from  down  and 
up  the  Road  and  into  the  Pratt  gate.  The  wedding 

187 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

supper  was  being  laid  on  improvised  tables  in  Bet- 
tie's  side  yard,  with  Judy  Pike  in  command,  sec- 
onded by  Mrs.  Peavey  with  her  skirts  tucked  up  out 
of  possible  harm  and  her  mind  on  the  outlook  for 
any  possible  disaster,  from  the  wilting  of  the  jelly 
mold  to  a  sad  streak  in  the  bride's  cake,  baked  by 
the  bride  herself  with  perfectly  happy  confidence. 

Then  on  the  heels  of  the  excitement  came  a  quiet 
half-hour  devoted  to  the  completing  of  all  toilets  be- 
hind closed  family  doors.  A  shrill  squeal  issuing 
now  and  then  from  an  open  window  told  its  tale  of 
tortures  being  undergone,  and  a  smothered  mascu- 
line ejaculation  added  a  like  testimony. 

At  exactly  a  quarter  to  five,  Miss  Wingate  issued 
from  her  room  after  a  completely  satisfactory 
seance  with  her  mirror,  and  from  the  front  steps 
looked  down  in  dismay  upon  a  scene  of  rebellion, 
that  threatened  at  any  moment  to  become  one  of  riot. 

On  the  grass  beside  the  porch  stood  a  group  of  lit- 
tle girls  all  starched,  frilled,  curled  and  beribboned 
until  they  resembled  a  large  bouquet  of  cabbage 
roses  themselves.  Each  one  clasped  carefully  a  gaily 
decorated  basket  filled  with  roses,  and  from  each  and 

188 


PRETTY    BETTIE'S    WEDDING    DAY 

every  pair  of  eyes  there  danced  sparks  of  rage, 
aimed  at  a  huddled  company  of  small  boys  who 
were  returning  their  indignation  by  sullen  scorn 
mixed  with  determination  in  their  polished,  freckled 
faces.  Half  way  between  each  group  stood  Eliza 
Pike,  a  glorified  Eliza,  from  a  halo  of  curls  to  brand 
new  small  shoes.  She  had  evidently  been  carrying 
on  a  losing  series  of  negotiations,  for  her  usually 
sanguine  face  had  an  expression  of  utter  hope- 
lessness, tinged  with  some  of  the  others'  feminine 
indignation. 

"Miss  Elinory,"  she  exclaimed  as  the  singer  lady 
came  to  the  edge  of  the  porch,  "I  don't  know  what 
to  make  of  the  boys,  they  never  did  this  way  be- 
fore!" 

"Why,  what  is  the  matter?"  asked  Miss  Wingate, 
something  of  Eliza's  panic  communicating  itself  to 
her  own  face  and  voice. 

The  boys  all  suddenly  found  interest  in  their  own 
feet  or  the  cracks  in  the  pavement,  so  Eliza  as  usual 
became  the  spokesman  for  the  occasion. 

"They  say  they  just  won't  carry  baskets  of  flow- 
ers, because  it  makes  them  look  silly  like  girls.  They 

189 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

will  march  with  us  if  you  make  'em  do  it,  but  they 
won't  carry  no  baskets  for  nobody.  I  don't  want 
Mis'  Pratt  to  find  out  how  they  is  a-acting,  for  three 
of  'em  are  hers  and  five  Hoovers,  and  it  is  they  own 
wedding."  Eliza's  voice  almost  became  a  wail  in 
which  Miss  Wingate  felt  inclined  to  join. 

At  this  juncture,  Martin  Luther  took  it  upon  him- 
self to  create  a  further  diversion  and  to  add  fuel 
to  the  flame.  By  a  mistake,  and  through  a  determi- 
nation to  follow  instructions,  he  had  clung  to  little 
Bettie's  hand,  and  when  she  picked  up  one  of  the 
tiny  baskets  provided  for  the  two  tots,  so  had  he, 
and  thus  he  found  himself  humiliatingly  equipped 
and  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  yard  and  question. 
Disengaging  himself  from  the  wide-eyed  Bettie,  he 
marched  to  the  center  of  the  middle  ground  and  cast 
the  despised  basket  upon  the  grass. 

"No  girl — boy,  thank  ma'am,  please!"  he  an- 
nounced with  a  defiant  glance  at  the  singer  lady  up 
from  under  the  rampant  curl,  and  that  he  did  not 
fail  in  his  usual  shibboleth  of  courtesy  was  due  to 
his  habitual  use  of  it,  rather  than  a  desire  to  soften 
the  effect  of  his  announcement. 

190 


PRETTY    BETTIE'S    WEDDING   DAY 

Miss  Wingate  sank  down  upon  the  steps  in  help- 
less dismay,  and  tears  began  to  drop  from  Eliza's 
eyes,  when  Mother  Mayberry  appeared  upon  the 
scene  of  action,  stiff  and  rustling  as  to  black  silk 
gown,  capped  with  a  cobweb  of  lace  over  the  water- 
waves  and  most  imposing  as  to  mien. 

"Now  what's  all  these  conniptions  about?"  she 
demanded,  and  eyed  the  boys  with  an  expression  of 
reserving  judgment  that  did  her  credit,  for  a  forlorn 
and  surly  sight  they  presented. 

And  again  Eliza  stated  the  case  of  the  culprits  in 
brief  and  not  uncertain  terms. 

"Well,  well,"  said  Mother  Mayberry,  and  a  most 
delicious  laugh  fell  on  the  overcharged  air  and  in 
itself  began  to  clear  the  atmosphere,  "so  you  empty- 
handed,  cross-faced  boys  think  you  look  more 
stylisher  for  the  wedding  than  the  girls  look,  do 
you?" 

"No'm,  we  never  said  that,"  answered  young  Bud 
with  a  grin  coaxing  at  his  wide  mouth.     "We  just' 
don't   want   to   carry   no   baskets.     Buck   said   he 
wouldn't,  and  Sam  Mosbey  said  they  had  oughter  tie 
a  sash  around  the  middle  of  all  of  us  for  a  show. 

191 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

We  think  the  girls  look  fine,"  and  he  cast  an  uneasy 
glance  at  his  sister. 

"Well,  seeing  as  you  came  down  as  far  as  to  pass 
a  compliment  on  'em,  I  reckon  the  girls  will  have 
to  forgive  you  for  talking  about  them  that  way.  I 
am  willing  to  ask  Miss  Elinory  here  to  give  you 
each  a  little  bunch  of  roses  to  carry  in  your  hand  in- 
stead of  a  basket,  and  to  let  you  walk  along  beside 
the  girls,  though  nobody  will  look  at  you  anyway 
or  know  you  are  there.  Is  that  a  bargain  and  is 
everybody  ready  to  step  into  line  ?" 

And  almost  instantly  there  was  a  relieved  and 
amicable  settling  of  the  difficulties,  a  sorting  of 
bunches  from  the  despised  baskets,  and  a  quick  line- 
up. 

"Now  start  on  down !  Don't  you  hear  Miss  Prissy 
playing  the  organ  for  you  ?"  exclaimed  Mother  May- 
berry  from  the  steps.  "Billy,  lift  up  your  feet,  and 
Henny,  you  throw  the  first  rose  just  where  Miss 
Elinory  told  you  to.  Everybody  watch  Henny  and 
throw  a  flower  whenever  he  does.  Aim  them  at  the 
ground  and  not  at  each  other  or  the  company.  We'll 

192 


PRETTY   BETTIE'S    WEDDING   DAY 

be  just  behind  you.  Now,  Martin  Luther,  take  Bet- 
tie  by  the  hand  and  don't  go  too  fast ! 

"A  little  fun  poked  at  the  right  time  will  settle 
most  man  conniptions,"  she  added,  in  an  aside  to  the 
relieved  and  admiring  singer  lady,  as  they  prepared 
to  follow  in  the  wake  of  the  bridal  train. 

And  among  all  the  weddings  over  all  the  land, 
that  fill  to  a  joyous  overflowing  almost  every  hour  of 
the  month,  of  June,  none  could  have  been  more  lovely 
or  happier  than  that  of  pretty  Bettie  Pratt,  and  the 
embarrassed  but  adoring  Mr.  Hoover  on  Providence 
Road.  The  train  of  solemn,  wide-eyed  little  flower 
bearers  was  received  by  the  wedding  guests,  who 
were  assembled  around  the  Meeting-house  door, 
with  a  positive  wave  of  rapture  and  no  hint  of  the 
previous  hurricane  of  rebellion  showed  in  their  rosy, 
cherubic  countenances.  They  separated  at  the  desig- 
nated point  and  according  to  instructions  took  their 
stand  along  the  side  of  the  walk  from  the  gate  to 
the  steps.  Billy  stepped  high,  roly-poly  little  Bettie 
steered  Martin  Luther  into  place  and  Eliza  had  the 
joy  of  catching  a  glimpse  of  the  pale  face  across  the 

193 


store-yard,  peering  out  of  the  window  with  the 
greatest  interest. 

Then  from  the  Pratt  home,  directly  across  the 
Road,  came  the  Deacon  and  Bettie,  and  the  enthusi- 
asm at  this  point  boiled  up  and  ran  over  in  a  perfect 
foam  of  joy.  And,  indeed,  the  pair  made  a  picture 
deserving  of  every  thrill,  Bettie  in  her  dove  gray 
muslin  and  the  Deacon  bedight  according  to  Eliza's 
expert  opinion  of  good  form.  He  beamed  like  a 
gentle  old  cherub  himself,  while  she  giggled  and 
blushed  and  nodded  to  the  children  as  she  stepped 
over  the  rain  of  roses,  on  up  to  the  very  door  itself. 
Immediately  following  the  children,  the  congrega- 
tion filed  in  and  settled  itself  for  the  long  prayer, 
that  the  Deacon  always  used  to  open  such  solemn 
occasions. 

The  singer  lady  found  herself  seated  between 
Mother  Mayberry  and  the  Doctor  on  the  end  of  the 
pew,  and  out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye  she  essayed  a 
view  of  his  magnificence,  but  caught  him  in  the  act 
of  making  the  same  pass  in  her  direction.  They  both 
blushed,  and  her  smile  was  wickedly  tantalizing, 
though  she  kept  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  Deacon's  face 

IQ4 


PRETTY    BETTIE'S    WEDDING   DAY 

as  he  began  to  read  the  words  of  the  service  in  his 
sweet  old  voice,  with  its  note  of  tender  affection  for 
the  pair  of  friends  for  whom  he  read  them.  And 
she  never  knew  why  she  didn't  realize  it  or  why  she 
thought  of  permitting  it,  but  as  the  impressive  words 
enfolded  the  pair  at  the  altar,  one  of  her  own  small 
hands  was  gently  possessed  in  a  warm,  strong  one, 
and  tightly  clasped.  For  moments  the  pair  of  hands 
rested  on  the  bench  between  them,  hid  by  a  filmy 
fold  of  the  rose  gown.  There  was  just  nothing  to 
be  done  about  it  that  the  singer  lady  could  see,  so 
she  let  matters  rest  as  they  were  and  gave  her  at- 
tention to  trying  to  keep  the  riot  in  her  own  heart 
in  reasonable  bounds.  However,  it  might  have  been 
a  comfort  to  her  to  know  that  across  the  church, 
Buck  had  captured  five  of  Pattie's  sunburned  fin- 
gers, and  Mr.  Petway  was  sitting  so  close  to  Miss 
Prissy  that  Mr.  Pike  came  very  near  being  irrever- 
ent enough  to  nudge  the  devout  Judy. 

Then  what  a  glorious  time  followed  the  solemn 
minutes  in  the  church !  The  very  twilight  fell  upon 
the  entire  wedding  party  still  feasting  and  rejoicing, 
and  it  was  under  the  light  of  the  early  stars  that  the 

195 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

guests  had  to  wend  their  way  home.  Mother  May- 
berry  was  surrounded  by  a  court  of  small  boys,  each 
one  eager  for  her  words  of  commendation  on  their 
more  than  exemplary  conduct  and  she  smiled  and 
joked  them  as  they  escorted  her  to  her  door-step. 
Cindy  had  gone  on  ahead  and  a  light  shone  from  the 
kitchen  window,  which  was  answered  by  flashes 
all  along  and  across  the  Road  as  the  various  house- 
holds settled  down  to  the  business  of  recovering 
sufficient  equilibrium  to  begin  the  conduct  of  the 
ordinary  affairs  of  daily  life  at  the  morrow  sun- 
up. 

"Sit  down  here  on  the  steps  just  a  minute," 
pleaded  the  Doctoi  with  trepidation  in  his  voice,  for 
the  rose  lady  had  found  the  strength  of  mind  to 
reprove  him  for  their  conduct  in  church  by  ignor- 
ing him  utterly  at  the  wedding  feast,  even  going  to 
the  point  of  partaking  of  her  supper  in  the  over- 
whelmed company  of  Sam  Mosbey,  who  not  for  the 
life  of  him  could  have  told  from  whence  came  the 
courage  to  ask  for  such  a  compliment,  and  the  result 
of  which  had  been  to  send  him  back  later  to  the 
table  in  a  half- famished  condition;  he  not  having 

196 


PRETTY    BETTIE'S    WEDDING    DAY 

been  able  to  feast  the  eyes  and  the  inner  man  at  the 
same  time. 

"Can  I  trust  you?"  she  demanded  of  the  Doctor 
in  a  very  small  and  reproving  voice. 

"If  that  is  a  condition — yes,"  he  reluctantly  con- 
sented, as  he  looked  up  at  her  in  the  starlight. 

"Thank  you — you  were  very  grand,"  she  said 
after  she  had  settled  herself  in  what  she  decided  to 
be  an  uncompromising  distance  from  him.  "You 
really  graced  the  occasion." 

"Miss  Wingate,"  he  said  slowly,  and  he  turned  his 
head  so  that  only  his  profile  showed  against  the  dusk 
of  the  wistaria  vine,  "you  wouldn't  really  be  cruel 
to  a  country  boy  wit;h  his  heart  on  his  sleeve  and 
only  his  pride  to  protect  it,  would  you?" 

"I  suppose  it  was  unkind,  for  he  was  so  hungry 
and  couldn't  seem  to  eat  at  all ;  but  I  saw  Mrs.  Pike 
giving  him  a  glorious  supper  later,  so  please  don't 
worry  over  him."  Which  answer  was  delivered  in 
a  meek  tone  of  voice  that  it  was  difficult  to  hold  to 
its  ingenuous  note. 

The  Doctor  ignored  this  feint  and  went  on  with 
the  most  exquisite  gentleness  in  his  lovely  voice  that 

197 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

somehow  brought  her  heart  into  her  throat,  and 
without  knowing  it  she  edged  an  inch  or  two  closer 
to  him  and  her  hand  made  an  involuntary  movement 
toward  his  that  rested  on  the  step  near  her,  but 
which  she  managed  to  stop  in  time.  "You  realize, 
do  vou  not,  dear  lady,  that  your  friendliness  to — to 
us  all,  commands  my  intensest  loyalty  ?  You'll  just 
promise  to  remember  always  that  I  do  understand 
and  go  on  being  happy  with  us,  won't  you — us 
country  folks  of  Providence  Road?''  The  note  of 
pride  in  his  voice  was  struck  with  no  uncertain 
sound. 

"Oh,  but  it's  you  that  don't — don't — "  the  singer 
lady  was  about  to  commit  herself  most  dreadfully 
by  her  exclamation  in  the  low  dove  notes  that  alone 
had  no  trace  of  the  disastrous  burr,  when  Mother 
Mayberry  stepped  out  of  the  hall  door  and  came  and 
seated  herself  beside  them. 

"Well,  of  course,  I  know  the  Bible  do  say  that 
they  won't  be  no  marriage  or  giving  in  marriage  in 
the  hereafter,  but  I  do  declare  we  all  might  miss 
such  infairs  as  these,  even  in  Heaven,"  she  observed 
jovially.  "Didn't  everybody  look  nice  and  act  nice? 

198 


PRETTY    BETTIE'S    WEDDING   DAY 

Course  it  was  just  country  doings  to  you,  honey- 
bird,  but  I  know  you  enjoyed  it  some  even  if  it 
were."  Like  all  sympathetic  natures  Mother  May- 
berry  fell  with  ease  into  the  current  of  any  thought, 
and  the  young  Doctor  reached  out  and  took  her 
hand  into  his  with  quick  appreciation  of 'the  fact. 

"It  was  so  very  lovely  that  it  made  me — made 
me  want — "  the  daring  with  which  the  singer  lady 
had  begun  her  defiant  remark  gave  out  in  the  middle 
and  she  had  to  let  it  trail  weakly. 

"Well,  I  hope  it  made  Mr.  Petway  want  Prissy 
bad  enough  to  ask  her,  along  about  moon-up,"  said 
Mother  Mayberry  in  a  practical  tone  of  voice. 
"Seems  like  I  hear  they  voices ;  and  if  he  is  over  there 
I  don't  see  how  he  can  get  out  of  co'ting  some.  It's 
just  in  the  air  to-night — and  we'd  better  all  be  a-go- 
ing to  bed  so  as  to  get  up  early  to  start  off.  Tom 
Mayberry,  seems  to  me  as  I  remember  it,  you  looked 
much  less  plain  favored  to-day  than  common.  Did 
you  have  on  some  new  clothes  ?  And  ain't  you  a-go- 
ing to  pass  a  compliment  on  Elinory  and  me,  both 
with  new  frocks  wored  to  please  you?" 

The  Doctor  laughed  and  as  they  all  rose  together 
199 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

he  still  held  his  mother's  hand  in  his  and  instead  of 
an  answer  he  bent  and  kissed  it  with  a  most  dis- 
tinctly foreign-acquired  grace. 

"That's  honey-fuzzle  again,  Tom  Mayberry,  if 
not  in  words,  in  acts,"  she  exclaimed  with  a  de- 
lighted laugh.  "But  pass  it  along  to  Elinory  if  only 
to  keep  her  from  feeling  lonesome.  Let  him  kiss 
your  hand,  child,  he  ain't  nothing  but  a  country 
bumpkin  that  can't  talk  complimentary  to  save  his 
life.  Now,  go  get  your  bucket  of  water,  sonny,  and 
don't  let  in  the  cat !" 


200 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  NEST  ON  PROVIDENCE  NOB 

WHY,  honey-bird ;  troubles  ain't  nothing  but 
tight,  ugly  little  buds  the  Lord  are  a-going 
to  flower  out  for  us  all,  in  His  good  time;  maybe 
not  until  in  His  kingdom.  I  hold  that  fact  in  my 
heart  always,"  said  Mother  Mayberry  as  she  looked 
down  over  her  glasses  at  the  singer  lady  sitting  on 
the  top  step  at  her  feet. 

"I  know  you  do,"  answered  Miss  Wingate  with 
a  new  huskiness  rather  than  the  burr  in  her  voice, 
which  made  Mother  look  at  her  quickly  before  she 
drew  another  thread  through  her  needle.  "But  I 
was  just  thinking  about  Mrs.  Bostick  and  wishing 
— oh !  I  wish  we  could  in  some  way  bring  her  son 
back  to  her  before  it  is  too  late.  Yesterday  afternoon 
when  I  started  home  she  drew  me  down  and  asked 
me  if  when — when  I  went  out  into  the  world  again 
I  would  look  for  him  and  help  him.  Is  there  noth- 
ing that  can  be  done  about  it?" 

201 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

"I  reckon  not,  child,"  answered  Mother  May- 
berry  gently.  "If  Will  was  to  come  back  now  it 
would  be  just  to  tear  up  her  heart  some  more.  Last 
night,  when  I  was  a-settling  of  her  for  bed,  I  began 
to  talk  about  the  other  five  children  she  have  buried 
under  God's  green  grass,  each  in  a  different  county, 
as  they  moved  from  place  to  place.  I  just  collected 
them  little  graves  together  and  tried  to  fill  her  heart 
with  'em,  and  when  I  left  she  was  asleep  with  a 
smile  on  her  face  I  ain't  seen  for  a  year.  It's  as  I 
say — a  buried  baby  are  a  trouble  bud  that's  a-going 
to  flower  out  in  eternity  for  a  woman.  I'll  find  a  lone 
blossom  and  she  a  little  bunch.  I'm  praying  in  my 
heart  that  Will's  a  stunted  plant  that'll  bloom  late, 
but  in  time  to  be  sheathed  in  with  the  rest.  But 
bless  your  sweet  feeling-heart,  child,  and  let's  keep 
the  smile  on  our  faces  for  her  comfort!  Woman 
must  bend  and  not  break  under  a  sorrow  load. 
Take  some  of  them  calcanthuses  to  her  when  you 
go  down  for  one  of  them  foreign  junkets  and  ask  her 
to  tell  you  about  them  little  folks  of  her'n.  Start  her 
on  the  little  girl  that  favored  the  Deacon  and  cut 
off  all  his  forelock  with  the  scissors  while  he  were 

202 


THE    NEST    ON    PROVIDENCE   NOB 

asleep,  so  he  'most  made  the  congregation  over  at 
Twin  Creeks  disgrace  theyselves  with  laughing  at 
his  shorn  plight  the  next  Sunday.  I've  got  to  turn 
around  'fore  sundown  for  I've  got  'most  a  day's 
work  to  straighten  out  the  hen  house  and  settle  the 
ruckus  about  nests.  The  whole  sisterhood  of  'em 
have  tooken  a  notion  to  lay  in  the  same  barrel  and 
have  to  be  persuaded  some.  Now  run  on  so  as  to 
be  back  as  early  as  you  can  before  Tom  comes." 
And  as  Mother  Mayberry  spoke,  she  began  to  gather 
together  her  sewing,  preparatory  to  a  sally  into  the 
world  of  her  feathered  folk. 

But  before  she  had  watched  the  singer  lady  out 
of  sight  down  the  Road,  with  her  spray  of  brown 
blossoms  in  her  one  hand  and  her  garden  hat  in 
the  other,  she  espied  young  Eliza  rapidly  approach- 
ing from  up  the  Road  and  there  was  excitement  in 
every  movement  of  her  slim,  little  body  and  in  every 
swish  of  her  short  calico  skirts,  as  well  as  in  the 
way  her  long  pigtail  swung  out  behind. 

"Mother  Mayberry,"  she  exclaimed,  as  she  sank 
breathless  on  the  top  step,  "they  is  a  awful  thing 
happened!  Aunt  Prissy  was  'most  disgraced  'bout 

203 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

a  box  of  soap  and  Bud  and  'Lias  and  Henny  might 
have  got  killed  and  Buck  too,  because  he  sent  one 
to  Pattie  and  wrote  what  was  on  the  card.  I've 
been  so  scared  I  am  in  the  trembles  now,  but  you 
said  always  pray  to  the  Lord  and  I  did  it  while  I 
was  a-running  down  to  the  store  to  beg  Mr.  Petway 
not  to  make  her  jump  off  from  Bee  Rock  on  the 
Nob  like  the  lady  Mis'  Peavey  read  about  in  the 
paper  did  because  the  man  wouldn't  marry  her  that 
she  was  in  love  with.  Fast  as  I  were  a-running  I 
reckon  the  Lord  made  out  what  I  said  and  beat  me 
to  him  and  told  him — " 

"  'Liza,  'Liza,  honey,  stop  this  minute  and  tell  me 
what  you  are  a-talking  about,"  demanded  Mother 
Mayberry,  with  almost  as  much  excitement  in  her 
voice  as  was  trembling  in  that  of  the  small  talking 
machine  at  her  feet.  "Now  begin  at  the  beginning 
and  tell  me  just  what  is  the  matter  with  your  Aunt 
Prissy?" 

"Nothing  now,"  answered  Eliza,  taking  a  fresh 
breath,  "she's  a-going  to  marry  Mr.  Petway,  only 
she  won't  know  it  until  to-night  and  I've  promised 
him  not  to  tell  her." 

204 


THE    NEST   ON    PROVIDENCE    NOB 

"What  ?"  was  all  that  Mother  Mayberry  managed 
to  demand  from  the  depths  of  her  astonishment  as 
she  sank  back  in  her  rocking-chair  and  regarded 
Eliza  with  positive  awe. 

"Yes'um,  and  it  were  all  about  them  two  beauti- 
ful boxes  of  sweet-smelling  soap  that  he  bought  in 
town  and  have  had  in  the  store  window  for  a  week. 
Buck  bought  one  to  send  to  Pattie  for  a  birthday 
present  and  he  wrote,  'When  this  you  see,  remem- 
ber me,'  on  a  card  and  put  it  in  the  box.  I  carried  it 
over  to  .her  for  him  and  Mr.  Hoover  jest  laughed, 
and  said  Buck  meant  Pattie  didn't  keep  her  face 
clean.  But  Mis'  Hoover  hugged  Pattie  and  whis- 
pered something  to  her  and  told  Mr.  Hoover  to 
shut  up  and  go  see  how  many  children  he  could  get 
to  come  in  and  be  washed  up  for  dinner.  Buck  was 
a- waiting  for  me  around  the  corner  of  the  store  and 
when  I  told  him  how  pleased  Mis'  Hoover  and 
Pattie  were,  he — " 

"But  wait  a  minute,  'Liza,"  interrupted  Mother 
Mayberry  with  a  laugh,  "them  love  jinks  twixt 
Buck  and  Pattie  is  most  interesting,  but  I'm  waiting 
to  hear  about  your  Aunt  Prissy  and  Mr.  Petway. 

205 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

It's  liable  to  be  serious  when  two  folks  as  old  as 
they  is — but  go  on  with  your  tale,  honey." 

"Well,  Buck  wrote  two  of  them  beautiful  'Re- 
member me'  verses  on  nice  pieces  of  white  paper, 
in  them  curlycues  the  Deacon  taught  him,  before  he 
got  one  to  suit  him  and  he  left  one  on  the  counter, 
right  by  the  cheese  box.  While  we  was  gone,  along 
come  'Lias  and  Bud  and  Henny  and  disgraced 
Aunt  Prissy." 

"Why,  what  did  them  scamps  do?"  demanded 
Mother  Mayberry,  looking  over  her  glasses  in  some 
perturbation  as  the  end  of  the  involved  narration 
began  to  dawn  upon  her. 

"They  tooken  the  other  box  of  soap  outen  the 
window  and  put  the  verse  in  it  and  carried  it  down 
to  Aunt  Prissy  and  told  her  Mr.  Petway  sent  it  to 
her.  It  was  a  joke  they  said,  but  they  was  good  and 
skeered.  I  got  home  then  and  I  seen  her  and  Maw 
laughing  about  it  and  Aunt  Prissy  was  just  as  pink 
and  pleased  and  loving  looking  as  Pattie  were  and 
Maw  was  a- joking  of  her  like  Mis'  Pratt — no, 
Hoover — did  Pattie  and  all  of  a  sudden  I  knewed  i< 
were  them  bad  boys,  'cause  I  seen  'em  laughing  in 

206 


THE    NEST   ON    PROVIDENCE    NOB 

a  way  I  knows  is  badness.  Oh,  then  I  was  so  skeered 
I  couldn't  swoller  something  in  my  throat  'cause  I 
thought  maybe  Aunt  Prissy  would  jump  offen  Bee 
Rock  when  she  found  she  were  so  disgraced  with 
Mr.  Petway.  I  woulder  done  it  myself,  for  I  got 
right  red  in  my  own  face  thinking  about  it."  And, 
the  blush  that  was  a  dawn  of  the  eternal  feminine 
again  rose  to  the  little  bud-woman's  face. 

"It  were  awful,  Eliza  child,  and  I  don't  blame  you 
for  being  mortified  over  it,"  said  Mother  Mayberry 
with  a  quick  appreciation  of  the  wound  inflicted  on 
the  delicacy  of  the  child,  and  the  tale  began  to  as- 
sume serious  proportions  in  her  mind  as  she  thought 
of  the  probable  result  to  the  incipient  affair  between 
the  elderly  lovers  that  had  been  a  subject  of  pray- 
ful  hope  to  her  for  some  time  past.  "What  did  you 
do?" 

"I  prayed,"  answered  Eliza  in  a  perfectly  practical 
tone  of  voice,  "and  as  I  prayed  I  ran  to  Mr.  Petway 
as  fast  as  I  could.  He  was  filling  molasses  cans  at 
the  barrel  when  I  got  there  and  they  wasn't  no- 
body in  the  store,  only  I  seen  Bud  and  Henny  peep- 
ing from  behind  the  blacksmith  shop  and  they  was 

207 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

right  white,  they  was  so  skeered  by  that  time.  Then 
I  told  him  all  about  it  and  begged  him  to  let 
Aunt  Prissy  have  the  box  of  soap  and  think  he  sent 
it,  so  her  feelings  wouldn't  get  hurted.  I  told  him  I 
would  give  him  my  seventy-five  cents  from  picking 
peas  to  pay  for  it  and  that  Aunt  Prissy  cried  so 
when  her  feelings  was  hurted,  and  she  thought  so 
much  of  him  that  she  kept  her  frizzes  rolled  up 
all  day  when  she  hoped  he  might  be  coming  that 
night  to  see  her  and  got  Maw  to  bake  tea-cakes  to 
pass  him  out  on  the  front  porch  and  he  might  let 
her  have  just  that  one  little  box  of  soap." 

"What  did  he  say,  child?"  asked  Mother  May- 
berry  in  a  voice  that  was  positively  weak  from  anx- 
iety and  suppressed  mirth  at  Eliza's  own  account  of 
her  management  of  the  outraged  lover. 

"He  didn't  say  a  thing,  but  he  sat  down  on  a 
cracker  box  and  just  hugged  me  and  laughed  until 
he  cried  all  over  my  dress  and  I  hugged  back  and 
laughed  too,  but  I  didn't  know  what  at.  Then  he 
told  me  that  he  didn't  ever  want  Aunt  Prissy  to 
know  about  them  bad  boys'  foolish  joke  'cause  he 
wanted  to  marry  Aunt  Prissy  and  didn't  want  her 

208 


THE   NEST   ON    PROVIDENCE    NOB 

to  find  out  that  three  young  scallawags  had  to  begin 
his  co'ting  for  him." 

"Did  he  say  all  that  to  you,  'Liza  honey,  are 
you  sure?"  asked  Mother  Mayberry,  beginning  to 
beam  with  delight  at  the  outcome  of  the  horrible 
situation. 

"Yes'm,  he  did,  and  I  went  out  and  brought  Bud 
and  'Lias  and  Henny  in  and  he  talked  to  'em  ser- 
ious until  'Lias  cried  and  Bud  got  choked  trying  not 
to.  Then  he  give  them  all  a  bottle  of  soda  pop  and 
they  ain't  never  anybody  a-going  to  tell  anybody 
else  about  it.  He  made  them  boys  cross  they  hearts 
and  bodies  not  to.  I  didn't  cross  mine  'cause  I 
knew  I  had  to  tell  you,  but  I  do  it  now."  And  Eliza 
stood  up  and  solemnly  made  the  mystic  sign,  thus 
locking  the  barn  door  of  her  secret  chambers  after 
having  quartered  the  troublesome  steed  of  confi- 
dence on  the  ranges  of  Mother  Mayberry's  con- 
science. 

"Well,  'Liza,  a  secret  oughter  always  be  wrapped 
up  tight  and  dropped  down  the  well  inside  a  person, 
and  suppose  you  and  me  do  it  to  this  one.  And, 
child,  I  want  to  tell  you  that  you  did  the  right  thing 

209 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

all  along  this  line,  and  it  were  the  Heavenly  Father 
you  asked  to  help  you  out  that  put  the  right  notion 
in  your  heart  of  what  to  do." 

"Yes'm,  I  believe  He  did,  and  He  got  hold  of  Mr. 
Petway  some  too,  to  make  him  kind  about  wanting 
to  marry  Aunt  Prissy.  He  are  a-going  to  ask  her 
to-night  and  I  promised  to  keep  Paw  outen  the  way 
for  him,  'cause  Paw  will  get  away  from  Maw  and 
come  talk  crops  with  him  sometimes  on  the  front 
porch.  May  I  go  out  to  the  kitchen  and  get  Cindy 
to  make  a  little  chicken  soup  for  Mis'  Bostick  now? 
I  can't  get  her  to  eat  much  to-day." 

"Yes,  and  welcome,  Sister  Pike,"  answered 
Mother  Mayberry  heartily,  and  she  shook  with 
laughter  as  the  end  of  the  blue  calico  skirt  dis- 
appeared in  the  hall.  "The  little  raven  have  actually 
begun  to  sprout  cupid  wings,"  she  said  to  herself  as 
she  went  around  the  corner  of  the  house  toward 
the  Doctor's  office.  "Co'ting  are  a  bombshell  that 
explodes  in  the  big  Road  of  life  and  look  out  who 
it  hits,"  she  further  observed  to  herself  as  she  paused 
to  train  up  a  shoot  of  the  rambler  over  the  office 
door. 

210 


THE    NEST   ON    PROVIDENCE    NOB 

The  Doctor  had  just  come  from  over  the  Ridge, 
put  up  his  horse  and  made  his  way  through  the 
kitchen  and  hall  into  his  office  where  he  found  his 
Mother  sitting  in  his  chair  by  the  table.  He  smiled 
in  a  dejected  way  and  seated  himself  opposite  her, 
leaned  his  elbows  on  the  table  and  dropped  his 
chin  into  his  hands. 

"Now,  what's  your  trouble,  Tom  Mayberry?" 
demanded  his  Mother,  as  she  gazed  across  at  him 
with  anxiety  and  tenderness  striving  in  glance  and 
tone.  "You've  been  a-going  around  like  a  dropped- 
wing  young  rooster  with  a  touch  of  malaria  for  a 
week.  If  it's  just  moon-gaps  you  can  keep  'em  and 
welcome,  but  if  it's  trouble,  I  claim  my  share,  son." 

"I  meant  to  tell  you  to-day,  Mother,"  he  answered 
slowly.  After  a  moment's  silence  he  looked  up  and 
said  steadily,  "I've  failed  with  Miss  Wingate — and 
I'm  too  much  of  a  coward  to  tell  her.  I  feel  sure 
now  that  she'll  never  be  able  to  use  her  voice  any 
more  than  she  can  in  the  speaking  tones  and  she — 
she  will  never  sing  again."  As  he  spoke  he  buried 
his  face  in  his  hands  and  his  arms  shook  the  table 
they  rested  upon. 

211 


THE  ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

For  a  moment  Mother  Mayberry  sat  perfectly  still 
and  from  the  whispered  words  on  her  lips  her  son 
knew  she  was  praying.  "The  Lord's  will  be  done," 
she  said  at  last  in  her  deep,  quiet  voice,  and  she  laid 
one  of  her  strong  hands  on  her  son's  arm.  "Tell 
me  about  it,  Tom.  You  ain't  done  no  operation 
yet." 

"Yes,  Mother,  I  have/'  he  answered  quietly.  "All 
the  different  laryngeal  treatments  she  had  tried  un- 
der the  greatest  specialists.  Her  one  hope  was  to 
be  built  up  to  the  point  of  standing  a  bloodless  opera- 
tion with  the  galvanic  shock.  I  have  tried  three 
times  in  the  last  week  to  release  the  muscles  and 
start  life  in  the  nerves  that  control  the  voca'.  chords. 
In  the  two  other  cases  with  which  I  have  succeeded 
the  response  was  immediate  after  the  first  operation. 
Now  I  dare  not  risk  another  tear  of  the  muscles. 
One  reason  I  didn't  tell  her  is  that  I  had  to  count 
on  her  losing  the  fear  that  she  wouldn't  gain  the 
control.  You  know  she  thinks  they  have  been  only 
preliminary  treatments  and  you  have  heard  her 
lau£h  as  I  held  her  white  throat  in  my  hands.  She 

212 


••   •-    •-•-....  -.  - 


She  laid  one  of  her  strong  hands  on  her  son's  arm    Page  2 


THE    NEST   ON    PROVIDENCE    NOB 

believes  completely  in  the  outcome.  God,  to  think 
I  have  failed  her — her!" 

"Yes,  Tom,  He  knows — and  Mother  under- 
stands," his  Mother  answered  gently. 

"And  she  must  be  told  right  away,"  said  the  Doc- 
tor as  he  rose  and  walked  to  the  window.  "It  is 
only  fair.  Shall  I  or  you  tell  her  ?  Choose,  Mother, 
what  will  be  best  for  her!  But  can  she  stand  it?" 

"Son,"  said  his  Mother,  as  she  also  rose  and 
stood  facing  him  with  the  late  afternoon  sun  falling 
straight  into  her  face  which,  lit  by  the  light  without 
and  a  fire  within,  shone  with  a  wonderful  radiance. 
"Son,  don't  you  know  these  old  Harpeth  Hills  have 
looked  down  in  they  day  on  many  a  woman  open  her 
arms,  take  a  burden  to  her  heart  and  start  on  a  long 
journey  up  to  the  Master's  everlasting  hills  ?  Some- 
times it  have  been  disgrace,  or  a  lifelong  loneliness, 
or  her  man  hunted  out  into  the  night  by  the  law.  I 
have  laid  still-born  children  into  my  sisters'  arms, 
and  I've  washed  the  blood  from  the  wounds  in 
women's  murdered  sons,  but  I  ain't  never  seen  no 
woman  deny  her  Lord  yet  and  I  don't  look  to  see 

213 


this  little  sister  of  my  heart  refuse  her  cup.  I'll  tell 
her,  for  it's  my  part — but  Tom  Mayberry,  see  that 
you  stand  to  her  when  your  time  comes,  as  it  surely 
will." 

"Don't  you  know,  Mother,  that  I  would  lay  down 
my  life  to  do  the  least  thing  for  her?"  he  asked, 
with  the  suffering  drawing  his  young  face  into  stern, 
hard  lines.  "But  to  do  the  one  thing  for  her  I  might 
have  done  has  been  denied  me,"  he  added  bitterly. 

"No,  Tom,  there's  one  thing  left  to  you  to  give 
her.  Sympathy  is  God's  box  of  precious  ointment 
and  see  that  you  break  yours  over  her  heart  this  day. 
Now,  I'm  a-going  down  Providence  Road  to  meet 
her  and  I  know  the  Lord  will  help  me  to  the  right 
words  when  the  time  comes.  I  leave  His  blessing 
with  you,  boy!"  And  she  turned  and  left  him  with 
his  softened  eyes  looking  up  into  her  calm  face. 

Then  for  a  long  hour  Mother  Mayberry  worked 
quietly  among  her  dependent  feather  folk  and  as  she 
worked,  her  gentle  face  had  its  brooding  mother- 
look  and  her  lips  moved  as  she  comforted  and  forti- 
fied herself  with  snatches  of  prayer  for  the  journey 
through  the  deep  waters,  on  which  she  was  to  lead 

214 


THE    NEST    ON    PROVIDENCE    NOB 

this  child  of  her  affection.  After  the  last  tangle  had 
been  straightened  out,  each  brood  settled  in  com- 
fortable quarters  and  the  cause  of  all  quarrels  arbi- 
trated, she  walked  to  the  front  gate  and  stood  look- 
ing down  the  Road. 

And  up  from  the  Deacon's  house  came  a  little 
procession  that  made  her  smile  with  a  sob  clutching 
at  her  heart.  The  singer  lady  had  taken  Teether 
from  the  arms  of  his  mother,  who  stood  happily  ex- 
changing the  topics  of  the  times  with  the  Hoover 
bride,  who  had  not  had  thus  far  sufficient  oppor- 
tunity to  expatiate  on  quite  all  the  adventures  of  the 
wedding  journey  and  kept  on  hand  still  a  small  store 
of  happenings  to  recount  to  her  sympathetic  neigh- 
bors as  they  found  time  and  opportunity.  The  rosy 
rollicking  youngster  she  had  perched  on  her  shoulder 
and  held  him  steadily  thus  exalted  by  his  pair  of 
sturdy,  milk-fed  legs.  Martin  Luther,  as  usual, 
clung  to  her  skirts,  Susie  Pike  danced  on  before  her 
and  the  Deacon  was  walking  slowly  along  at  her 
side,  carefully  carrying  the  rose-garden  of  a  hat  in 
both  his  hands.  He  was  looking  up  at  her  with  his 
gentle  face  abeam  with  pleasure  and  Mother  May- 

215 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

berry  could  hear,  as  they  came  near,  that  she  was 
humming  to  him  as  he  lined  out  some  quaint,  early- 
church  words  to  her.  It  was  a  never  failing  source 
of  delight  to  the  old  patriarch  to  have  her  thus  fit 
motives  from  the  world's  great  music  to  the  old, 
pioneer  hymns. 

"Sister  Mayberry,"  he  exclaimed  with  exultation 
in  his  old  face,  "I  never  thought  to  hear  in  this 
world  these  words  of  my  brother,  Charles  Wesley, 
sung  to  such  heavenly  strains  as  my  young  sister  has 
put  them  this  day.  Never  before,  I  feel,  have  they 
had  fit  rendition.  While  I  line  the  verse,  sing  them 
again  to  Sister  Mayberry,  child,  that  her  ears  may 
be  rejoiced  with  mine."  And  Mother  Mayberry 
caught  at  the  top  of  the  gate  as  the  girl  slipped  the 
nodding  baby  down  into  her  arms  and  in  her  won- 
derful muted  voice  hummed  the  Grail  motif  while 
the  Deacon  raised  his  thin  old  hands  and  lined  out 
the 

"Hail,  holy,  holy,  holy  Lord, 
Whom  one  in  three  we  know — " 

on  through  its  verses  to  its  final  invocation  of  the 

216 


THE    NEST   ON    PROVIDENCE    NOB 

"Supreme,  essential  One,  adored 
In  co-eternal  Three/' 


"The  Lord  bless  you,  child,  and  make  His  sun  to 
shine  upon  you,"  he  said  as  the  last  note  died  away, 
while  Teether  chuckled  and  nozzled  at  Mother  May- 
berry's  shoulder.  "I  must  go  on  back  to  sit  with 
Mrs.  Bostick  and  will  deposit  this  treasure  with 
Sister  Mayberry,"  he  added  with  a  smile  as  he 
handed  the  bouquet-hat  over  the  gate. 

"Susie,  can't  you  take  Teether  over  to  your  Aunt 
Prissy  and  tell  her  that  Mother  says  please  give  him 
his  milk  right  away,  for  it's  past  time,  and  she  will 
come  in  a  few  minutes?"  asked  the  singer  lady,  as 
she  handed  the  reluctant  baby  to  the  small  girl  at 
her  side. 

"Milk,  thank  ma'am,  please,"  demanded  Martin 
Luther  quickly,  having  no  intention  of  being  left  out 
of  any  lactic  deal. 

"Run  ask  Cindy,"  answered  Mother  Mayberry, 
as  she  started  him  up  the  front  walk,  and  came  on 
more  slowly  with  Miss  Wingate  at  her  side.  In  her 
soul  she  was  realizing  fully  the  influence  the  lovely 

217 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

woman  had  thrown  over  the  hearts  of  the  simple 
Providence  folk  and  the  greatness  of  her  own  nature 
was  making  her  understand  something  of  the  loss  to 
those  of  the  outer  world  whom  the  great  singer 
would  be  no  longer  able  to  call  within  the  spell  of 
lier  wonderful  voice. 

"Honey-bird,"  she  said  gently,  as  she  drew  the 
girl  to  the  end  of  the  porch  where  the  wistaria  vine, 
-a  whispering  maple  and  the  crimson  rambler  shut 
them  in  from  the  eyes  of  all  the  world  save  the  spirit 
of  Providence  Nob,  which  brooded  down  over  them 
in  a  wisp  of  cloud  across  its  sun-reddened  top, 
"here's  the  place  and  time  and  heart  strength  to  tell 
you  that  your  Lord  have  laid  the  hand  of  affliction  on 
you  heavy  and  have  tooken  back  from  you  the 
beautiful  voice  He  gave  you  to  use  for  a  time. 
I'm  a-praying  for  you  to  be  able  to  say  His  will  be 
done." 

For  one  instant  the  singer  woman  went  white  to 
the  eyes  and  swayed  back  against  the  vine,  then  she 
asked  huskily,  "Did  he  say  so?" 

"Yes,"  answered  the  Doctor's  mother  gently  with 
her  deep  eyes  looking  into  the  girl's  very  soul. 

218 


THE    NEST   ON    PROVIDENCE    NOB 

"Them  treatments  was  operations  and  they  is  all 
he  dares  to  make  for  fear  of  your  losing  the  speak- 
ing voice  what  you  have  got  so  beautiful.  If  they 
is  any  love  and  pity  in  my  heart  after  I  have  stopped 
giving  it  to  you  I'm  going  to  pour  some  out  on  Tom 
Mayberry,  for  when  a  man's  got  to  look  sorrow  in 
the  eyes  he  goes  blind  and  don't  know  what  way  to- 
turn,  lessen  a  woman  leads  him.  But  he  ain't  neither 
here  or  there  and — " 

"Where  is  he?"  demanded  Miss  Wingate  in- 
her  soft  dove  notes  as  she  looked  the  tragedy- 
stricken  young  Doctor's  mother  straight  in  the  face, 
with  her  dark  eyes  completely  unveiling  her  heart, 
woman  to  woman.  "I — I  want  him!" 

"What's  left  of  him  is  in  the  office,  and  you  are 
welcome  to  the  pieces,"  answered  his  Mother,  a 
comprehensive  joy  rising  above  the  sorrow  in  her 
eyes.  "I  reckon  I  can  trust  him  with  you,  but  if  you 
need  any  help,  call  me,"  she  added,  as  the  singer 
girl  fled  down  the  steps  and  around  to  the  office 
wing. 

And  they  neither  one  of  them  ever  knew  how  it 
really  happened,  though  she  insisted  on  accusing  her- 

219 


THE  ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

self  and  he  claimed  always  the  entire  blame,  but  he 
had  been  sitting  where  his  Mother  had  left  him  for 
an  hour  or  more  with  his  face  in  his  hands  when  he 
suddenly  found  himself  clasped  in  soft  arms  and  his 
eyes  pressed  -.close  against  a  bare  white  throat  and  a 
most  wonderful  dove  voice  was  murmuring  happy, 
comforting  little  words  that  fell  down  like  jewels 
into  his  very  heart  of  hearts.  And  his  own  strong 
arms  held  very  close  a  palpitating,  cajoling,  flower 
of  a  woman,  who  was  wooing  for  smiles  and  dim- 
pling with  raptures. 

"I  don't  care,  I  don't,  and  please  don't  you !"  she 
pleaded  with  her  lips  against  his  black  forelock. 

"I  can't  help  caring!  The  one  thing  I  asked  of 
all  my  years  of  hard  work  was  to  give  the  music 
back  to  you — "  and  again  he  buried  his  face  in  the 
soft  lace  at  her  throat. 

"You  say,  do  you,  that  I'll  never  sing  again?"  she 
asked  quickly,  and  as  she  spoke  she  lifted  his  head 
in  her  hands  and  waited  an  instant  for  the  smothered 
groan  with  which  he  answered  her. 

"Now,  listen,"  she  answered  him  in  a  voice  fairly 
a-tremble  with  joyous  passion  and  as  she  spoke  she 

220 


THE    NEST   ON    PROVIDENCE   NOB 

laid  his  ear  close  over  her  heart  and  held  him  so  an 
instant.  "Does  it  matter  that  only  you  will  ever 
hear  the  song,  dear?"  she  whispered,  then  slipped 
out  of  his  arms  and  across  to  the  other  side  of  the 
table  before  he  could  detain  her. 

"No,  Tom  Mayberry,"  she  said  as  he  reached  for,, 
her,  and  her  tone  was  so  positive  that  he  stopped 
with  his  arms  in  the  air  and  let  them  sink  slowly  to 
his  side.  "We'll  have  this  question  out  right  here  and 
if  I  have  trouble  with  you  I'll — call  your  Mother," 
and  she  laughed  as  she  shook  away  a  tear. 

"Please!"  he  pleaded  and  his  face  was  both  so 
radiant  and  so  worn  that  she  had  to  harden  her  heart 
against  him  to  be  able  to  hold  herself  in  hand  for 
what  she  wanted  to  say  to  him. 

"No,"  she  answered  determinedly,  "and  you  must 
listen  to  every  word  I  say,  for  I  am  getting  fright- 
ened already  and  may  have  to  stop." 

"I  want  to  talk  some  myself,"  he  said  with  the 

very  first  smile  coming  into  his  grave  young  eyes. 

"I  want  to  tell  you  that  I  can't  help  loving  you,  and 

have  ever  since  I  first  saw  you,  but  that  it  won't  do 

at  all  for  you  to  marry — marry  a  Providence  country 

221 


THE  ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

bumpkin  with  nothing  but  a  doctoring  head  on  his 
shoulders.  I  want  you  to  understand  that — " 

"Please  don't  refuse  me  this  way  before  I've  ever 
asked  you,"  she  said  with  a  trace  of  the  grand  dame 
hauteur  in  her  manner  and  voice  that  he  had  never 
seen  before.  "I  think — I  think  very  suddenly  I  have 
come  to  realize,  Doctor  Mayberry,  that — that — oh, 
I'm  very  frightened,  but  I  must  say  it!  I  wouldn't 
blame  you  or  your  Mother  for  not  wanting  me  at  all. 
I — I  somehow,  I  don't  seem  very  great — or  real  to 
myself  here  in  Providence.  My  training  has  been 
all  to  one  end — useless  now — and  I'm  all  unlessoned 
and  unlearned  in  the  real  things  of  life.  I  seem  to 
feel  that  the  hot  theaters  and  the  crowds  that  have 
looked  at  me  and — am  I  what  she  has  a  right  to 
demand  in  your  wife?"  And,  with  a  proud  little 
gesture,  she  laid  her  case  in  his  hands. 

And  though  she  had  not  expected  anything  dra- 
matic from  him  in  the  way  of  refutation  of  her 
speech,  she  was  totally  unprepared  for  the  wonder- 
ful, absolute  silence  that  met  her  heroics.  He  stood 
and  looked  her  full  in  the  eyes  with  a  calm  radiance 
in  his  face  that  reminded  her  of  the  dawn-light  she 

222 


THE    NEST   ON    PROVIDENCE    NOB 

had  seen  that  morning  come  over  Providence  Nob 
and  his  deep  smile  gave  a  young  prophet  look  to  his 
austere  mouth.  And  as  she  gazed  at  him  she  drew 
timidly  nearer,  even  around  the  corner  of  the  table. 

"Your  work  is  so  wonderful — and  real — and  you 
ought  to  have  a  wife  who — "  By  this  time  she  had 
got  much  nearer  and  her  voice  trailed  off  into  un- 
certainty. And  still  he  stood  perfectly  still  and 
looked  at  her. 

"She  loves  me  and  I  love  her,  so  that,  do  you  think, 
I  might — I  might  learn?  Cindy  says  I'm  a  wonder — 
and  remember  the  custards,"  she  finished  from  some- 
where in  the  region  of  his  collar.  "Now  that  we've 
both  refused  each  other  do  you  suppose  we  can  go 
on  and  be  happy?"  she  laughed  softly  from  under 
his  chin. 

And  the  young  Doctor  held  her  very  close  and 
never  answered  a  word  she  said.  The  strain  on 
him  had  been  very  great  and  he  was  more  shaken 
than  he  wanted  her  to  see.  But  from  the  depths  of 
her  heart  she  understood  and  pressed  closer  to  him 
as  she  gave  him  a  long  silence  in  which  to  recover 
himself.  Twilight  was  coming  in  the  windows  and 

223 


THE  ROAD  TO  PROVIDENCE 

a  fragrant  night  breeze  was  ruffling  her  hair  against 
his  cheek  before  she  stirred  in  his  arms. 

"We've  got  to  ask — to  ask  Mother  before — be- 
fore," she  was  venturing  to  suggest  in  the  smallest 
of  voices  in  which  was  both  mirth  and  tenderness, 
when  a  low  laugh  answered  her  from  the  doorway. 

"Oh,  no  you  don't,"  said  Mother  Mayberry,  as  she 
beamed  upon  them  with  the  most  manifest  joy.  "I 
had  done  picked  you  out  before  you  had  been  here 
more'n  a  week,  honey-bird.  You  can  have  him  and 
welcome  if  you  can  put  up  with  him.  He's  like 
Mis'  Peavey  always  says  of  her  own  jam :  'Plenty  of 
it  such  as  it  is  and  good  enough  what  they  is  of  it.' 
A  real  slow-horse  love  can  be  rid  far  and  long  at  a 
steady  gate.  He  ain't  pretty,  but  middling  smart." 
And  the  handsome  young  Doctor's  mother  eyed  him 
with  a  well-assumed  tolerance  covering  her  positive 
rapture. 

"Are  you  sure,  sure  you're  not  disappointed  about 
— about  that  peony-girl?"  demanded  the  singer  lady, 
as  she  came  into  the  circle  of  Mother  Mayberry's 
arm  and  nozzled  her  little  nose  under  the  white  lawn 
tie. 

224 


THE   NEST   ON    PROVIDENCE    NOB 

"Le'me  see,"  answered  Mother  Mayberry  in  a 
puzzled  tone  of  voice.  "I  seem  to  understand  you, 
but  not  to  know  what  you  are  talking  about." 

"The  girl  to  whom  he  gave  the  graduating  bou- 
quet with  Mrs.  Peavey's  peony  in  it,"  she  whispered, 
but  not  so  low  that  the  Doctor,  who  had  come  over 
and  put  a  long  arm  around  them  both,  couldn't  hear. 

"Well,"  answered  Mother  Mayberry  in  a  judicial 
tone  of  voice  as  she  bestowed  a  quizzical  glance  on 
the  Doctor,  who  blushed  to  the  roots  of  his  hair  at 
this  revelation  of  the  fact  of  his  Mother's  indul- 
gence in  personal  reminiscence,  "I  reckon  Miss  Al- 
ford'll  be  mighty  disappointed  to  lose  him,  but  I 
don't  know  nothing  about  her  riz  biscuits.  Happi- 
ness and  good  cooking  lie  like  peas  in  a  pod  in  a 
man's  life  and  I  reckon  I'll  have  to  give  Tom  May- 
berry,  prize,  to  you." 

"Mother!"  exclaimed  the  Doctor. 

"Thank  you,"  murmured  Miss  Wingate  with 
a  wicked  glance  at  him  from  his  Mother's  shoulder 
that  brought  a  hurried  embrace  down  upon  them 
both. 

"Children,"  said  Mother  Mayberry,  as  she  sud- 
225 


denly  reached  out  her  strong  arms  and  took  them 
both  close  to  her  breast,  "looks  like  the  Lord  some- 
times hatches  out  two  birds  in  far  apart  nests  just 
to  give  'em  wing-strength  to  fly  acrost  river  and  hill 
to  find  each  other.  You  both  kinder  wandered  for- 
eign some  'fore  you  sighted  one  another,  but  now  you] 
can  begin  to  build  your  own  nest  right  away,  and  I 
offers  my  heart  as  a  bush  on  Providence  Nob  to  put 
it  in." 


226 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  LITTLE  HARPETH   WOMAN  OF  MANY  SORROWS 

THIS  here  are  a  curious  spell  of  weather,"  re- 
marked Mother  Mayberry,  as  she  paused  be- 
side the  singer  lady  who  was  holding  Martin  Luther 
up  on  the  broad  window-sill,  and  with  him  was  look- 
ing disconsolately  down  the  Road.  "June's  gone  to 
acting  like  a  woman  with  nerves  that  cries  just  be- 
cause she  can.  I'm  glad  all  the  chicken  babies  are 
feathered  out  and  can  shed  rain.  Them  little  Hoosier 
pullets  have  already  sprouted  tail  feathers.  They 
ain't  a  one  of  'em  a-going  into  the  skillet  no  matter 
how  hungry  Tom  Mayberry  looks  after  'em.  If  I 
don't  hold  you  and  Cindy  back  from  spoiling  him 
with  chicken-fixings  three  times  a  day  he'll  begin  to 
show  pin  feathers  hisself  in  no  time." 

"He  likes  chicken  better  than  anything  else,"  mur- 
mured Miss  Wingate  as  she  buried  a  blush  in  Martin 
Luther's  topknot. 

"Well,  wanting  ain't  always  a  reason  for  being 
227 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

gave  to,"  said  the  Doctor's  mother  with  a  chuckle 
as  she  admired  the  side  view  of  the  blush.  "But, 
seeing  that  he  about  half  feeds  hisself  by  looking  at 
me  and  you  at  the  table,  I  reckon  I'll  have  to  let  him 
have  two  chickens  a  day  to  keep  up  his  strength. 
Honey-fuzzle  are  a  mighty  satisfying  diet,  though 
light,  for  a  growed  man.  Reckon  we  can  persuade 
him  to  try  a  couple  of  slices  of  old  ham  oncet  in  a 
while  so  as  to  give  a  few  broilers  time  to  get  legs 
long  enough  to  fry?" 

"We  can  try,"  answered  the  singer  lady  in  a 
doubtful  tone  of  voice,  for  the  Doctor's  penchant  for 
young  chicken  was  very  decided. 

"Dearie  me,  it  do  beat  all  how  some  plans  of  life 
fall  down  in  the  oven,"  said  the  Doctor's  mother, 
as  she  eyed  Miss  Wingate  with  her  most  quizzical 
smile  quirking  up  the  corners  of  her  humorous 
mouth.  "Here  I  put  myself  to  all  manner  of  troubles 
to  go  out  into  the  big  world  to  get  a  real  managing 
wife  for  Tom  Mayberry  and  I  might  just  as  well 
have  set  cross-handed  and  waited  for  Susie  Pike  or 
little  Bettie  to  grow  up  to  the  spoiling  of  him.  I 
thought  seeing  that  you'd  been  raised  with  a  silver 

228 


THE   LITTLE    HARPETH    WOMAN 

spoon  in  your  mouth  and  handed  life  on  a  fringed 
napkin,  so  to  speak,  you  would  make  him  stand 
around  some,  but  for  all  I  can  see  you're  going  to 
make  another  Providence  wife.  Ain't  you  got  none 
of  the  suffering-women  new  notions  at  all?" 

"I  can't  help  it,"  answered  the  singer  lady,  duck- 
ing her  head  behind  Martin  Luther  again,  but  smil- 
ing up  out  of  the  corners  of  her  eyes. 

"Are  you  just  going  to  drop  over  into  being  a 
poor,  down-trodden,  miserable,  man-bossed  Harpeth 
Hill's  wife,  without  trying  a  single  new-fashioned 
husband  remedy  on  him,  with  so  many  receipts  for 
managing  'em  being  written  down  by  ladies  all  over 
the  world,  mostly  single  ones?"  demanded  Mother 
May  berry,  fairly  bubbling  over  with  glee  at  the 
singer  lady's  abashment. 

"Yes,  I  am,"  answered  Miss  Wingate  sturdily. 
"I  want  him  to  have  just  what  he  wants." 

"This  are  worse  and  more  of  it,"  exclaimed  the 
Doctor's  delighted  Mother.  "You  are  got  a  wrong 
notion,  child!  Marriage  ain't  no  slow,  plow-team 
business  these  days ;  it's  hitched  at  opposite  ends  and 
pulling  both  ways  for  dear  life.  Don't  you  even 

229 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

hope  you  will  be  able  to  think  up  no  kind  of  tantrums 
to  keep  Tom  Mayberry  from  being  happy  ?" 

"I  don't  want  to/'  laughed  the  infatuated  bride 
prospective. 

"Then  I  reckon  I'll  have  to  give  up  and  let  you 
settle  down  into  being  one  of  these  here  regular  old- 
fashioned,  primping-for-a-man,  dinner-on-the-table- 
at-the-horn-blow,  hanging-over-the-front-gate-wait- 
ing  kind  of  wives.  I  thought  I'd  caught  a  high- 
faluting  bird  of  Paradise  for  him  and  you  ain't 
a  thing  in  the  world  but  a  meadow  dove.  But  there 
comes  Bettie  scooting  through  the  rain  with  little 
Hoover  under  her  shawl.  Providence  folks  have  got 
duck  blood,  all  of  'em,  and  the  more  it  pours  out 
they  paddles.  Come  in  and  shake  your  feathers,  Bet- 
tie." 

"Howdy  all,"  exclaimed  the  rosy  Mrs.  Hoover. 
"This  here  rain  on  the  corn  is  money  in  everybody's 
pocket.  I  just  stopped  in  to  show  you  this  pink 
flowered  shirt-waist  I  have  done  finished  for  Miss 
Prissy  Pike.  Ain't  it  stylish  ?" 

"It  surely  are,  Bettie!"  exclaimed  Mother  May- 
berry.  "I'm  so  glad  you  got  it  pink." 

230 


THE   LITTLE   HARPETH    WOMAN 

"And  it  don't  run  neither.  I  tried  it,"  said  the 
proud  designer  of  the  admired  garment 

"That's  a  good  sign  for  the  wedding.  You  can 
rub  happiness  that's  fast  dyed  through  any  kinder 
worry  suds  and  it'll  come  out  with  the  color  left. 
Any  news  along  the  Road?"  asked  Mother  May- 
berry,  as  she  handled  the  rosy  blouse  with  careful 
hands. 

"Well,  Henny  Turner  says  that  Squire  Tutt  are 
in  bed  covered  up  head  and  ears  with  the  quilts,  but 
'Lias  says  that  it  are  just  'cause  Mis'  Tutt  have  got 
a  happy  spell  on  her  and  have  been  exerting  of  him. 
She  called  all  three  of  them  boys  in,  Bud  and  Henny 
and  'Lias,  and  made  'em  learn  a  Bible  verse  a-piece, 
and  I  was  grateful  to  her  for  her  interest,  but  the 
Squire  cussed  so  to  'em  while  she  went  to  get  'em  a 
cake  that  I'm  afraid  the  lesson  were  spoiled  for  the 
chaps." 

"I  don't  reckon  it  were,  Bettie.  Good  salts  down 
any  day,  while  Evil  don't  ever  keep  long.  But  I  do 
wish  we  could  get  the  Squire  and  Mis'  Tutt  to  be  a 
little  more  peaceably  with  one  another.  It  down- 
right grieves  me  to  have  'em  so  spited  here  in  they 

231 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

old  age."  And  Mother  Mayberry's  eyes  took  on  a 
regretful  look  and  she  peered  over  her  glasses  at  the 
happy  bride.  On  her  buoyant  heart  she  ever  carried 
the  welfare  of  every  soul  in  Providence  and  the 
crabbed  old  couple  down  the  Road  was  a  constant 
source  of  trouble  to  her. 

"You  shan't  worry  over  'em,  Mis'  Mayberry," 
answered  pretty  Bettie  quickly.  "You  get  every 
Providence  trouble  landed  right  on  your  shoulders 
as  soon  as  one  comes.  You  don't  get  a  chance  to 
do  nothing  but  deal  out  ease  to  other  people's 
bodies  and  souls,  too." 

"Well,  a  cup  of  cold  water  held  to  other  folks' 
mouths  is  a  mighty  good  way  to  quench  your  own 
thirst,  Bettie  child,  and  I'm  glad  if  it  are  gave  to  me 
to  label  out  the  blessing  of  ease.  But  have  you  been 
in  to  the  Deacon's  this  morning?" 

"No'm,  I'm  a-going  to  stop  as  I  go  along  home," 
answered  Bettie.  "I  have  seed  the  little  raven  pad- 
dling back  and  forth,  so  I  guess  they  is  all  right. 
I  must  hurry  on  now,  for  I  see  Miss  Prissy  at  the 
window  looking  for  me.  Ain't  my  baby  a-grow- 
ing?"  she  asked,  as  she  picked  little  Hoover  off  of 

232 


THE   LITTLE   HARPETH    WOMAN 

the  floor  and  again  enveloped  the  bobbing  head  un- 
der her  own  shawl. 

"Yes,  it  are,  and  Mr.  Hoover's  a-smiling  hisself 
fat  by  the  day,  child,"  answered  Mother  Mayberry 
with  a  smile.  "Do  you  pass  on  the  word  to  Elinory 
here  that  Providence  husbands  wear  good,  both 
warp  and  woof?" 

"That  they  do,  Miss  Elinory,  and  I  never  seed 
nothing  like  'em  in  my  travels,"  called  back  the 
bride  from  the  door,  as  she  reefed  in  her  skirts  and 
sailed  out  in  the  downpour. 

"Well,  your  mind  oughter  be  satisfied,  child,  for 
Bettie  muster  seen  a  good  deal  of  the  world  in  that 
three  weeks'  bridal  trip  in  the  farm  wagon,"  laughed 
Mother  Mayberry  at  the  singer  lady  by  the  window. 
"Now  I'm  a-going  to  swim  out  to  gather  eggs  and 
I'll  be  back  if  I  don't  drown."  With  which  she  left 
the  girl  and  the  tot  to  resume  their  watch  down  the 
Road  for  a  horse  and  rider  due  in  not  over  two 
hours'  time. 

And  indeed  the  last  of  old  June's  days  seemed  in 
danger  of  dripping  away  from  her  in  tears  of  fare- 
well. Rain  clouds  hung  low  over  Harpeth  Hills  and 

233 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 
/ 
drifted  down  to  the  very  top  of  Providence  Nob.    A 

steady  downpour  had  begun  in  the  night  and  held  on 
into  the  day  and  seemed  to  increase  in  volume  as  the 
hours  wore  away.  The  tall  maples  were  standing  de- 
pressed-boughed  and  dripping  and  the  poplar  leaves 
hung  sodden  and  wet,  refusing  a  glimpse  of  their 
silver  lining.  A  row  of  bleeding-hearts  down  the 
walk  were  turning  faint  pink  and  drooping  to  the 
ground,  while  every  rose  in  the  yard  was  shattered 
and  wasted  away. 

"Rain,  rain!"  wailed  Martin  Luther  under  his 
breath,  as  he  pressed  his  cheek  to  the  window-pane 
and  looked  without  interest  at  a  forlorn  rooster  hud- 
dled with  a  couple  of  hens  under  the  snowball  bush. 

"Don't  you  want  a  cake  and  some  milk?"  asked 
the  singer  lady,  as  she  gave  him  a  comforting  hug 
and  essayed  consolation  by  the  offer  of  a  material 
distraction. 

"No  milk,  no  cake ;  L-i-z-a,  thank  ma'am,  please," 
he  sobbed  a  disconsolate  demand  for  what  he  con- 
sidered a  good  substitute  sunbeam. 

"There  she  comes  now,  darling,"  exclaimed  the 
singer  lady,  with  as  much  pleasure  coming  into  her 

234 


THE   LITTLE    HARPETH    WOMAN 

face  as  lit  the  doleful  cherub's  at  her  side.  And 
from  the  Pike  front  door  there  had  issued  a  small 
figure,  also  enveloped  in  an  old  shawl,  which  made 
its  way  across  the  puddles  with  splashing,  bare  feet. 
She  had  her  covered  dish  under  her  arm  and  a  bucket 
dangled  from  one  hand.  She  answered  Martin  Lu- 
ther's hail  with  a  flash  of  her  white  teeth  and 
sped  across  the  front  porch. 

And  in  the  course  of  just  ten  minutes  the  ex- 
perienced young  pacifier  had  established  the  small 
boy  as  driver  to  Mother  Mayberry's  large  rocking- 
chair,  mounted  him  on  the  foot  of  the  bed  with 
snapping  switch  to  crack  and  thus  secured  a  two- 
hour  reign  of  peace  for  his  elders. 

"Miss  Elinory,"  she  said,  as  she  came  and  stood 
close  to  the  singer  lady  seated  in  the  deep  window, 
"I'm  mighty  glad  you  got  Doctor  Tom;  and  it  were 
fair  to  the  other  lady,  too.  He  couldn't  help  loving 
you  best,  'cause  you  are  got  a  sick  throat  and  she 
ain't.  Do  you  reckon  she'll  be  satisfied  to  take  Sam 
Mosbey  when  she  comes  again?  I'm  sorry  for  her." 

"So  am  I,  Eliza,"  laughed  Miss  Wingate  softly, 
as  the  rose  blush  stole  up  over  her  cheeks,  "but  I 

235 


THE  ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

don't  believe  she'll  need  Mr.  Mosbey.  Don't  you  sup- 
pose she — that — is — there  must  be  some  one  down 
in  the  City  whom  she  likes  a  lot." 

"Yes'm,  I  reckon  they  is.  Then  I'll  just  take  Sam 
myself  when  I  grow  up  if  nobody  else  wants  him," 
answered  Eliza  comfortably.  "I'm  sorry  to  be  glad 
that  your  throat  didn't  get  well,  but  Mis'  Peavey 
says  that  you  never  in  the  world  woulder  tooken 
Doctor  Tom  if  you  coulder  gone  away  and  made 
money  singing  to  people.  I  don't  know  what  me  or 
him  or  Mother  Mayberry  woulder  done  without  you, 
but  we  couldn'ter  paid  you  much  to  stay.  You  won't 
never  go  now,  will  you  ?" 

"Never,"  answered  the  singer  lady,  as  she  drew 
the  little  ingenue  close  to  her  side.  "And  let  me 
whisper  something  to  you,  Eliza — I  never — would — 
have — gone — any — way.  I  love  you  too  much,  you 
and  Mother  Mayberry — and  Doctor  Tom.'* 

"And  Mis'  Bostick  and  Deacon,"  exclaimed  the 
loyal  young  raven.  "Miss  Elinory,  I  get  so  scared 
about  Mis'  Bostick  right  here,"  she  added, 
laying  her  hand  on  her  little  throat.  "She  won't  eat 
nothing  and  she  can't  talk  to  me  to-day.  Maw  and 

236 


THE    LITTLE    HARPETH    WOMAN 

Mis'  Nath  Mosbey  are  there  now  and  waiting  for 
Doctor  Tom  to  come  back.  They  said  not  to  tell 
Mother  Mayberry  until  the  rain  held  up  some,  but 
the}'  want  her,  too.  Can't  loving  people  do  nothing 
for  'em,  Miss  Elinory?"  and  with  big,  wistful  eyes 
the  tiny  woman  put  the  question,  which  has  agonized 
hearts  down  the  ages. 

"Oh,  darling,  the — loving  itself  helps,"  answered 
the  singer  lady  quickly  with  the  mist  over  her  eyes. 

"I  believe  it  do,"  answered  Eliza  thoughtfully. 
"I  hold  the  Deacon's  other  hand  when  he  sets  by 
Mis'  Bostick.  He  wants  me,  and  she  smiles  at  us 
both.  I  don't  like  to  leave  'em  for  one  single  min- 
ute. I  have  to  wait  now  for  Cindy  to  get  the  dinner 
done,  but  then  I'm  a-going  to  run.  Why,  there  goes 
Mother  Mayberry  outen  the  gate  under  a  umbrella ! 
And  Aunt  Prissy  asked  me  to  get  a  spool  of  number 
fifty  thread  from  her  to  sew  some  lace  on  a  petti- 
coat Mis'  Hoover  have  done  finished  for  her.  If  I 
was  to  go  to  get  married  I'd  make  some  things  for 
my  husband,  too,  and  not  so  much  for  myself.  I 
wouldn't  want  so  many  skirts  unless  I  knewed  he 
had  enough  shirts." 

237 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

"But,  Eliza,"  remonstrated  Miss  Wingate,  slightly 
shocked  at  this  rather  original  idea  of  providing  a 
groom  with  a  trousseau,  "perhaps  he  would  rather 
get  things  for  himself." 

"No'm,  he  wouldn't,"  answered  Eliza  positively. 
"I  ain't  a-going  to  say  anything  to  Aunt  Prissy 
about  it  'cause  you  never  can  tell  what  will  hurt  her 
feelings,  but  I  want  you  to  get  Mis'  Hoover  to  show 
you  how  and  make  three  nice  shirts  for  Doctor  Tom, 
so  you  can  wash  one  while  he  wears  the  other  and 
keep  one  put  away  for  Sunday.  That  is  the  way 
Maw  does  for  Paw  and  all  the  other  folks  on  the 
Road  does  the  same  for  they  men.  Mis'  Peavey  can 
show  you  how  to  iron  them  nice,  for  she  does  the 
Deacon's  for  me  and  Mother  Mayberry  is  too  busy 
to  bother  with  such  things  'count  of  always  having 
to  go  to  sick  folks  even  over  to  the  other  side  of  the 
Nob.  Cindy  don't  starch  good.  You'll  do  for  Doctor 
Tom  nice,  now  you've  got  him,  won't  you  ?" 

"Yes,  Eliza,  I  will,"  answered  the  singer  lady 
meekly,  as  this  prevision  of  the  life  domestic  rose 
up  and  menaced  her.  She  even  had  a  queer  little 
thrill  of  pleasure  at  the  thought  of  performing  such 

238 


THE   LITTLE   HARPETH    WOMAN 

superhuman  tasks  for  what  was  to  be  her  individual 
responsibility  among  Providence  men  along  the 
Road.  The  certainty  that  she  would  never  be  al- 
lowed to  perform  such  offices  at  machine  and  tub 
actually  depressed  her,  for  the  thought  had  brought 
a  primitive  sense  of  possession  that  she  was  loath 
to  dismiss;  the  passion  for  service  to  love  being  an 
instinct  that  sways  the  great  lady  and  her  country 
sister  alike.  "Do  you  think  he — will  let  me?"  she 
asked  of  her  admonisher. 

"Just  go  on  and  do  it  and  don't  ask  him,"  was  the 
practical  answer.  "There  he  comes  now  leading  his 
horse  and  he  have  been  to  see  Mis'  Bostick.  I  can 
get  the  dinner  and  run  on  to  meet  him  and  hear  how 
he  thinks  she  are,"  she  exclaimed  as  she  seized  her 
dish  and  bucket  and  disappeared  in  the  direction  of 
the  kitchen. 

And  a  few  minutes  later,  as  Doctor  Mayberry  was 
unsaddling  his  horse  in  the  barn  a  lithe  figure  en- 
veloped as  to  head  and  shoulders  in  one  of  Cindy's 
kitchen  aprons  darted  under  the  dripping  eaves  and 
stood  breathless  and  laughing  in  the  wide  door. 

"I  saw  you  come  up  the  Road,"  said  the  singer 
239 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

lady,  as  she  divested  herself  of  the  gingham  gar- 
ment, "and  I  was  dying  to  get  out  in  the  rain,  much 
to  Cindy's  horror.  You  are  late." 

"Not  much,"  answered  the  young  Doctor,  slipping 
out  of  his  rain  coat  and  coming  over  to  stand  be- 
side her  in  the  door.    "What  have  you  been  doing  all ' 
morning?" 

"I've  been  being — being  lectured,"  she  answered, 
as  she  looked  up  in  his  face  with  dancing  dark  eyes. 

"Who  did  it  to  you?"  he  asked,  taking  her  ringers 
into  his  and  drawing  her  farther  back  from  the 
splash  of  the  rain  drops. 

"Your  Mother  and  then  Eliza  Pike,"  she  answered 
with  a  low  laugh.  "Eliza  is  afraid  I  won't  'do  for 
you'  in  proper  Providence  style  and  I'm  very  humble 
and — I — I  want  to  learn.  She  thinks  I  ought  to  be- 
gin on  some — some  shirts  for  you  right  now  and 
I'm  going  to.  What  color  do  you  prefer?" 

"Horrors !"  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  positively 
blushing  at  the  thought  of  the  very  lovely  lady  en- 
gaged in  such  a  clothing  mission. 

"I  knew  you  wouldn't  have  any  confidence  in 
240 


THE   LITTLE   HARPETH    WOMAN 

them,"  answered  Miss  Wingate  mournfully,  "and  I 
haven't  myself,  but  still  I  was  willing  to  try." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  have !"  the  young  Doctor  hastened  to 
exclaim.  "Better  make  them  suitable  for  traveling, 
for  I've  got  marching  orders  in  the  noon  mail.  Are 
you  ready  to  start  to  Italy  on  short  notice  and  then 
on  to  India?" 

"What  ?"  demanded  the  singer  lady  with  alarmed 
astonishment. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  young  Doctor  coolly.  "The 
Commission  writes  that  my  reports  on  Pellagra  down 
here  are  complete  enough  now  for  them  to  send  some 
chap  down  to  continue  them,  while  I  go  on  to  South- 
ern Italy  for  a  study  of  similar  conditions  there 
and  then  on  to  India  for  a  still  more  exhaustive  ex- 
amination. The  Government  is  determined  to  stamp 
this  scourge  out  before  it  gets  a  hold,  and  it's  work 
to  put  out  the  fire  before  it  spreads.  Better  hurry 
the  shirts  and  pack  up  your  own  fluff." 

"But  I'm  not  going  a  step  or  a  wave,"  answered 
the  singer  girl  defiantly.  "I'm  too  busy  here  now. 
I  don't  ever  intend  to  leave  Mother  as  long  as  I 

241 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

live.    I  don't  see  how  you  can  even  suggest  such  a 
thing  to  me." 

"Do  you  know  what  leaving  Mother  is  like?" 
asked  the  young  Doctor,  as  he  looked  down  on  her 
with  tenderness  in  his  gray  eyes  and  Mother  May- 
berry's  own  quizzical  smile  on  his  lips.  "It's  like 
going  to  sleep  at  night  with  a  last  look  at  Providence 
Nob, — you  wake  up  in  the  morning  and  find  it  more 
there  than  ever.  She  was  there  on  sunny  mornings 
over  in  Berlin  and  there  on  gray  days  in  London  and 
I  had  her  on  long  hard  hospital  nights  in  New  York. 
Just  come  with  me  on  this  trip  and  I  promise  she 
and  Old  Harpeth  will  be  here  when  we  get  back. 
Please!" 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Miss  Wingate  in  a 
small  voice  as  she  rubbed  her  cheek  against  the  arm 
of  his  coat.  "I'm  in  love  with  Tom  Mayberry  of 
Providence  Road.  I  don't  know  that  I  want  to 
go  traveling  with  a  distinguished  physician  on  an 
important  Government  mission  and  attend  Legation 
dinners  and  banquets  and — I  don't  want  to  leave 
my  Mother,"  and  there  was  a  real  catch  in  the  laugh 
she  smothered  in  his  coat  sleeve. 

242 


THE    LITTLE    HARPETH    WOMAN 

"Dearie  girl,"  he  exclaimed,  looking  down  with 
delight  at  a  small  section  of  blush  left  visible  against 
the  rough  blue  serge  of  his  coat,  "y°u  and  Mother 
are—" 

"Sakes,  you  folks,  I  wish  you'd  try  to  listen  when 
you  are  called  at!"  came  in  a  sharp  voice  as  Mrs. 
Peavey  looked  down  upon  them  from  over  the  wall 
near  the  barn.  "One  of  them  foolish  Indiany  chick- 
ens are  stretched  out  kicking  most  drowned  in  a 
puddle  right  by  the  barn  door,  and  there  you  both 
stand  doing  nothing  for  it.  Tom  Mayberry,  pick  it 
up  this  minute  and  give  it  to  me!  I'm  a-going  to 
put  it  behind  my  stove  until  Mis'  Mayberry  comes 
home.  I've  got  some  feeling  for  her  love  of  chick- 
ens, /  have." 

"Oh,  I  didn't  see  it !"  exclaimed  Miss  Wingate,  in 
an  agony  of  regret.  "The  dear  little  thing !  Give  it 
to  me  and  I'll  take  care  of  it." 

"Fiddlesticks !  Chickens  ain't  'dear  little  things,' 
and  I  wouldn't  trust  neither  one  of  you  to  take  care 
of  a  flea  of  mine,  with  your  philandering.  Hand  it 
here  to  me,  Tom  Mayberry,  like  I  tell  you !"  And  the 
Doctor  hastened  to  pick  up  the  little  gasping  bunch 

243 


THE  ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

of  drenched  feathers,  which  Mrs.  Peavey  tucked  in 
the  corner  of  her  shawl.  "Did  you  all  hear  that  a 
car  busted  into  another  one  down  in  the  City  day 
before  yesterday  and  throwed  the  driver  and  broke 
a  lady's  arm  and  cut  a  baby's  leg  shameful?  It 
was  in  the  morning  paper  I  saw  down  to  the  store ; 
and  a  wind  storm  blew  off  a  man's  roof  too." 

"I  haven't  read  the  paper  yet,"  answered  the 
singer  lady  in  the  subdued  voice  she  always  used  in 
addressing  Mother  Mayberry's  pessimistic  neighbor. 

"Well,  you  oughter  take  interest  in  accidents  if 
you  are  a-going  to  be  a  Doctor's  wife.  It'll  be  all 
in  the  family  then  and  you  can  hear  it  all  straight 
and  maybe  see  some  folks  mended,"  answered 
Mrs.  Peavey,  and  she  failed  to  notice  Miss  Win- 
gate's  horrified  expression  at  such  a  prospect. 
"How's  Mis'  Bostick,  Tom?  That  is,  how  do  your 
Mother  say  she  are,  for  I  couldn't  trust  your  notion 
in  such  a  case  as  her'n." 

"I  think  Mother  feels  worried  over  her  to-day," 
answered  the  Doctor  gently,  with  not  a  trace  of 
offense  at  his  neighbor's  outspoken  question.  "Her 
heart  is  very  weak  and  it  is  impossible  to  stimulate 

244 


THE   LITTLE   HARPETH    WOMAN 

her  further.  Mother  is  up  there  now  and  I'll  come 
tell  you  what  she  says  when  she  comes  home  to  din- 
ner." 

"Well,  I'm  always  thankful  for  news,  bad  as  it 
mostly  are,"  answered  Mrs.  Peavey  in  gloomy  grat- 
itude for  his  offer  of  a  report  from  Mother  May- 
berry.  "You  all  had  better  go  on  in  the  house  now 
and  put  Miss  Elinory's  wet  feet  in  the  stove,  for 
they  won't  be  no  use  in  her  dying  on  Mis'  May- 
berry's  hands  with  pneumony  at  this  busy  time  of  the 
year.  Them  slippers  is  too  foolish  to  look  at."  With 
which  the  shawled  head  disappeared  from  the  top  of 
the  wall. 

"Do  you  know,  I  had  a  strange  dream  last  night," 
said  the  singer  lady,  as  the  Doctor  hung  up  his 
bridle  and  shut  the  feed-room  door  preparatory  to 
following  out  Mrs.  Peavey's  injunction  as  to  carry- 
ing Miss  Wingate  away  to  be  dry  shod.  "I  dreamed 
that  I  was  singing  to  Mrs.  Bostick  and  the  Deacon, 
really  singing,  and  just  as  it  rose  clear  and  strong 
Mrs.  Peavey  called  to  me  to  'shut  up'  and  it  stopped 
so  suddenly  that  I  waked  up — and  the  strange  part 
of  it  is  that  I  heard,  really  heard,  I  thought,  my  own 

245 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

voice  die  away  in  an  echo  up  in  the  eaves.  For  a 
second  I  seemed  awake  and  listening — and  it  was 
lovely — lovely !" 

"Dear,"  said  the  Doctor,  as  he  took  her  hand  in 
his  and  held  it  against  his  breast,  "I  would  give  all 
life  has  to  offer  me  to  get  it  back  for  you.  I  will 
hope  against  hope!  I  haven't  written  Doctor  Stein 
yet.  I  can't  make  myself  write.  Perhaps  we  will 
find  some  one  on  this  trip  who  has  some  theory  or 
treatment  or  something  to  offer.  I've  been  praying 
that  help  will  come!" 

"Would  you — like  me  any  better  if  I  had  it  back  ?" 
she  asked  with  a  happy  little  laugh  as  she  laid  her 
cheek  against  their  clasped  hands.  "Would  you 
want  L'EUonore  more  than  you  do  just  plain  Elinor 
Wingate,  care  Mother  Mayberry,  Providence,  Ten- 
nessee?" 

"I'm  going  to  carry  you  in  the  house  so  you  can 
put  on  dry  stockings,"  answered  the  Doctor  with  a 
spark  in  his  gray  eyes  that  scorned  her  question, 
and  without  any  discussion  he  picked  her  up,  strode 
through  the  rain  with  her  and  deposited  her  in  the 
kitchen  door. 

246 


THE    LITTLE   HARPETH    WOMAN 

And  over  by  the  long  window  they  found  Mother 
Mayberry  standing  with  her  hand  on  Cindy's  shoul- 
der, who  sat  with  her  head  bowed  in  her  apron  sob- 
bing quietly,  while  Martin  Luther  stood  wide-eyed 
and  questioning,  with  his  little  hand  clutching  Moth- 
er's skirts. 

"Children,"  said  Mother  quietly  as  she  came  and 
stood  beside  them  in  the  doorway,  while  Martin  Lu- 
ther nestled  up  to  Doctor  Tom,  "I've  come  down  the 
Road  to  tell  you  that  it  are  all  over  up  at  the  Dea- 
con's. It  were  very  beautiful,  for  Mis'  Bostick  just 
give  us  a  smile  and  went  to  meet  her  Lord  with  the 
love  of  us  all  a-shining  on  her  face.  We  didn't 
hardly  sense  it  at  first,  for  she  had  just  spoke  to 
'Liza,  and  the  Deacon  were  over  by  the  window.  I 
ain't  got  no  tears  to  shed  for  her  and  Deacon  are  so 
stunned  he  don't  nef  d  'em  yet." 

"•Mother,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  as  he  took  her 
hand  in  his,  while  the  singer  lady  crept  close  and 
rested  against  her  strong  shoulder. 

"Yes,  son,"  answered  his  Mother  gently,  "it  come 
so  sudden  I  couldn't  even  send  for  you,  but  go  on 
up  there  now  and  see  what  you  can  do  for  Deacon. 

247 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

He'll  want  you  for  the  comfort  of  your  presence, 
you  and  'Liza." 

"And  Eliza!"  exclaimed  Miss  Wingate  with  a  sob, 
"it'll  break  her  little  heart." 

"They  never  was  such  a  child  as  'Liza  Pike  in  the 
world,"  said  Mother  Mayberry  softly  and  for  the 
first  time  a  film  of  tears  spread  over  her  eyes.  "She 
have  never  said  a  word,  but  just  stands  pressed  up 
close  with  her  arm  'round  the  Deacon's  shoulders  as 
he  sits  with  his  Good  Book  acrost  his  knees.  She 
give  one  little  moan  when  she  understood,  but  she 
ain't  made  a  mite  of  child-fuss,  just  shed  her  baby 
tears  like  a  woman  growed  to  sorrow.  Her  little 
bucket  and  dish  of  dinner  is  a-setting  cold  on  the 
table  and  a  little  draggled  rose  she  had  brung  in  not 
a  hour  back  is  still  in  Mis'  Bostick's  fingers,  and  the 
other  one  pinned  on  the  Deacon's  coat.  When  Judy 
and  Betty  wanted  to  begin  to  fix  things  she  under 
stood  without  a  word,  led  the  Deacon  out  into 
the  hall  and  are  just  a-standing  there  a-keeping  him 
up  in  his  daze  by  the  courage  in  her  own  loving  little 
heart.  The  good  Lord  bless  and  keep  the  child! 
Now,  go  on,  Tom,  and  see  what  you  can  do !  Yes, 

248 


THE   LITTLE    HARPETH    WOMAN 

Cindy  will  run  right  over  and  tell  Mis'  Peavey.  And 
stop  in  and  see  Squire  Tutt,  for  Henny  Turner  says 
he  are  down  to-day  and  a-asking  for  you.  Come 
into  my  room,  honey-bird,  I've  got  to  look  for  some- 
thing." 

"Somehow,  I  don't  feel  about  dying  as  lot  of  folks 
do,"  she  remarked  to  the  singer  lady,  as  she  stood  in 
front  of  the  tall  old  chest  of  drawers  in  her  own 
room  a  few  minutes  later.  "Death  ain't  nothing  but 
laying  down  one  job  of  work  and  going  to  answer 
the  Master  when  He  calls  you  to  come  take  up  an- 
other. Mis'  Bostick  have  worked  in  His  vineyard 
early  and  late,  through  summer  sun  and  winter  wind, 
and  now  He  have  summoned  her  in  for  some  other 
purpose.  He'll  find  her  well-tried  and  seasoned  to 
go  on  with  whatever  plans  He  have  for  her  in  His 
Kingdom." 

"It's  wonderful  to  believe  that,"  answered  the 
singer  girl  through  her  tears.  "It  seems  to  supply 
a  reason  for  what  happens  to  us  here — if  we  can  go 
on  with  it  later." 

"Course  we  can,"  answered  Mother  Mayberry, 
as  she  began  to  search  in  her  top  drawer  for  some- 

240 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

thing.  "I  hope  He  have  got  some  good  big  job  cut 
out  for  Tom  Mayberry  and  me;  but  course  it  will 
have  to  be  something  different,  for  they  won't  be  no 
more  sickness  or  death  or  sorrowing  for  us  doctors 
to  tend  on.  But  Pa  Lovell  and  Doctor  Mayberry 
have  found  something  by  this  time  and  maybe  it  will 
be  for  me  and  Tom  to  work  at  it  alongside  of  'em. 
It  might  be  you  will  have  the  beautiful  voice  back 
and  come  sing  for  us  all,  as  have  never  heard  you  in 
this  world.  Then,  too,  I  believe  He'll  give  it  to  lit- 
tle Sister  Pike  to  tend  on  the  prophets  and  maybe 
I'll  be  there  to  see !" 

"This  is  the  first  time  I  ever  could  take — take  any 
interest  in  Heaven  at  all,"  confessed  Miss  Win- 
gate,  lifting  large,  comforted  eyes  to  Mother  May- 
berry's  face.  "When  I  was  so  desperate  and  didn't 
know  what  to  do,  before  I  came  and  found  out  that 
there  was  a  place  for  me  in  this  world  even  if  I 
couldn't  sing  any  more,  I  used  to  dread  the  thought 
of  Heaven,  even  if  I  might  some  day  be  good  enough 
to  go  there." 

"Well,  a  stand-around,  set-around  kind  of  Heaven 
may  be  for  some  people  as  wants  it,  but  a  come-over- 

250 


THE   LITTLE   HARPETH    WOMAN 

and-help-us  kind  is  what  I'm  hoping  for.  I  want  to 
have  a  good  lot  of  honest  acts  to  pack  up  and  take 
into  the  judgment  seat  to  prove  my  character  by 
and  then  be  honored  with  some  kind  of  telling  labor 
to  do.  I'm  looking  for  something  white  to  put  at 
Mis'  Bostick's  neck,  for  we  are  a-going  to  lay  her  in 
her  grave  in  the  old  dress  with  its  honorable  patches, 
but  with  a  little  piece  of  fine  white  to  match  her 
sweet  soul.  Here  it  is." 

"Will  you  let  me  know  if  I  can  do  anything  for 
anybody  or  the  Deacon  later?"  asked  the  singer  lady 
gently. 

"I  know  you  will  be  a  comfort  to  him,  child,  after 
a  while.  You  can  look  after  my  chickens  and  things 
for  me,  for  Cindy's  a-going  with  me  and  that 
leaves  you  to  feed  the  two  boys,  Tom  and  Martin 
Luther,  for  dinner.  And  don't  you  never  forget  that 
you  are  the  apple-core  of  your  Mother  Mayberry's 
heart  and  she's  a-going  to  hold  you  to  her  tender, 
even  unto  them  Glory  days  we've  been  a-planning 
for,  with  Death  here  in  the  midst  of  Life." 


25  T 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  SONG  OF  THE  MASTERS  GRAIL 

IN  all  my  long  life  it  have  never  been  gave  to  me 
to  see  anything  like  Deacon  Bostick  and  his 
Providence  children,"  said  Mother  Mayberry,  as 
she  stood  on  the  end  of  the  porch  with  the  singer 
girl's  hand  in  hers.  "He  are  a-setting  on  his  bench 
under  the  tree  right  by  her  window,  like  he  always 
did  to  listen  for  her,  and  every  child  in  the  Road  is 
a-huddled  up  against  him  like  a  forlorn  lot  of  little 
motherless  chickens.  He  have  got  little  Bettie  and 
Martin  Luther  on  his  knees  and  the  rest  are  just 
crowded  up  all  around  him.  He  don't  seem  to  notice 
any  of  the  rest  of  us,  but  looks  to  'Liza  for  every- 
thing. She  got  him  to  go  to  bed  at  nine  o'clock  and 
when  Buck  and  Mr.  Pet  way  went  to  set  up  for  the 
night  they  found  she'd  done  made  'Lias  and  Henny 
and  Bud  all  lie  down  by  him,  one  on  each  side  and 
Bud  acrost  the  foot.  He  wanted  'em  to  stay  and  the 
men  let  'em  do  it.  Judy  says  she  were  up  by  daylight 

252 


SONG   OF   THE    MASTER'S    GRAIL 

and  gone  down  the  Road  to  see  about  his  breakfast 
and  things.  And  now  she  are  just  a-standing  by  him 
waiting  for  the  bell  to  toll  for  the  funeral.  The  Dea- 
con have  surely  followed  his  Master  in  the  suffering 
of  little  children  to  draw  close  to  him  in  this  life 
and  now  he  are  becoming  as  one  of  'em  before 
entering  the  Kingdom." 

"This  soft,  misty,  sun-veiled  day  seems  just  made 
for  Mrs.  Bostick,"  said  Miss  Wingate  with  unshed 
tears  in  her  voice. 

"It  may  be  just  a  notion  of  mine,  honey-bird,  but 
it  looks  like  up  here  in  Harpeth  Hills  the  weather 
have  got  a  sympathy  with  us  folks.  Look  how  Prov- 
idence Nob  have  drawed  a  mist  of  tears  'twixt  it  and 
the  faint  sun.  When  troubles  are  with  us  I've  seen 
clouds  boil  up  over  the  Ridge  and  on  the  other  hand 
we  ain't  scarcely  ever  had  rain  on  a  wedding  or 
church  soshul  day.  I  like  to  feel  that  maybe  the  good 
Lord  looks  special  after  us  of  His  children  living 
out  in  the  open  fields  and  we  have  got  His  word  that 
He  tempers  the  winds.  People  in  the  big  cities  can 
crowd  up  and  keep  care  of  one  another,  but  out  here 
we  are  all  just  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand.  Here 

253 


THE   ROAD   TO   PROVIDENCE 

comes  Mis'  Peavey.  I  asked  her  to  go  along  to  the 
funeral  with  me  and  you.  It  are  most  time  now." 

"Howdy,  all,"  said  Mrs.  Peavey  in  an  utterly 
gray  tone  of  voice.  "Mis'  Mayberry,  that  Circuit 
Rider  have  never  come  from  Bolivar  yet.  Do  you 
reckon  his  horse  have  throwed  him  or  is  it  just  he 
don't  care  for  us  Providence  folks  and  don't  think  it 
worth  his  while  to  come  say  the  words  over  Sister 
Bostick?" 

"Oh,  he  come  'most  a  half-hour  ago,  Hettie  Ann," 
answered  Mother  Mayberry  quickly.  "Bettie  had  a 
little  snack  laid  out  for  him  'count  of  his  having  to 
make  such  a  early  start  to  get  here.  He  was  most 
kind  to  the  Deacon  and  professed  much  sorrow  for 
us  all.  How  are  your  side  this  morning?" 

"I  got  out  that  foolish  dry  plaster  Tom  made  me 
more'n  a  month  ago  and  put  it  on  last  night,  'cause  I 
didn't  want  to  disturb  you,  and  to  my  surprise  they 
ain't  a  mite  of  pain  hit  me  since.  But  I  guess  it 
are  mostly  the  clearing  weather  that  have  stopped  it." 

"Maybe  a  little  of  both,"  answered  the  Doctor's 
mother  with  a  smile,  "but  anyway,  it's  good  that  you 
ain't  a-suffering  none.  We  must  all  take  good  care 

254 


SONG   OF    THE   MASTER'S    GRAIL 

of  each  other's  pains  from  now  on,  'cause  we  are 
most  valuable  one  to  another.  Friends  is  one  kind 
of  treasure  you  don't  want  to  lay  up  in  Heaven." 

"I  spend  most  of  my  time  thinking  about  folks' 
accidents  and  hurts  and  pains,"  answered  Mrs. 
Peavey  in  all  truth.  "Miss  Elinory,  did  you  gargle 
your  throat  with  that  slippery-ellum  tea  I  thought 
about  to  make  for  you  last  week?" 

.  "Yes,  Mrs.  Peavey,  I  did,"  answered  Miss  Win- 
gate  quickly,  for  she  had  performed  that  nauseous 
operation  actuated  by  positive  fear  of  Mrs.  Peavey 
if  she  should  discover  a  failure  to  follow  her  direc- 
tions. 

"It'll  cure  you,  maybe,"  answered  the  gratified 
neighbor.  "There's  the  bell  and  let's  all  go  on  slow 
and  respectful." 

And  the  sweet-toned  old  Providence  Meeting- 
house bell  was  tolling  its  notes  for  the  passing  of 
the  soul  of  the  gentle  little  Harpeth  woman  of  many! 
sorrows  as  her  friends  and  neighbors  walked  quietly 
down  the  Road,  along  the  dim  aisle  and  took  their 
places  in  the  old  pews  with  a  fitting  solemnity  on 
their  serious  faces.  The  young  Circuit  Rider  spoke 

255 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

to  them  from  a  full  heart  in  sympathetically  simple 
words  and  Pattie  Hoover  led  the  congregation  from 
behind  the  little  cabinet  organ  in  a  few  of  the  Dea- 
con's favorite  hymns. 

Then  the  little  procession  wound  its  way  among 
the  graves  over  to  a  corner  under  an  old  cedar  tree, 
where  the  stout  young  farmers  laid  their  frail 
burden  down  for  its  long  sleep.  The  Deacon 
stood  close  by  and  the  children  clung  around  his 
thin  old  legs,  to  his  hands,  and  reached  to  grasp  at  a 
corner  of  his  coat.  Eliza  laid  her  head  against  his 
shoulder  and  Henny  and  'Lias  crowded  close  on 
the  other  side,  while  Bud  held  the  old  black  hat  he 
had  taken  from  off  his  white  hair,  in  careful,  shaking 
little  hands.  The  singer  lady,  with  the  Doctor  at  her 
side  and  her  hand  in  Mother  Mayberry's,  stood  just 
opposite  and  the  others  came  near. 

The  simple  service  that  the  Church  has  instituted 
for  the  committing  of  its  dead  to  the  grave  had  been 
read  by  the  Circuit  Rider,  the  last  prayer  offered, 
and  as  a  long  ray  of  sunlight  came  through  the  mist 
and  fell  across  the  little  assembly,  he  turned  ex- 
pectantly to  Pattie  Hoover,  who  stood  between  her 

256 


SONG   OF   THE    MASTER'S    GRAIL 

father  and  Buck  at  the  other  end  of  the  grave.  He 
had  read  the  first  lines  of  the  hymn  and  he  ex- 
pected her  to  raise  the  tune  for  the  others  to  follow. 
But  when  a  woman's  heart  is  very  young  and  tender, 
and  attuned  to  that  of  another  which  is  throbbing 
emotionally  close  by,  her  own  feelings  are  apt  to  rise 
in  a  tidal  wave  of  tears,  regardless  of  consequences; 
and  as  Buck  Peavey  choked  off  a  sob,  Pattie  turned 
and  buried  her  head  on  her  father's  arm.  There  was 
a  long  pause  and  nobody  attempted  to  start  the  sing- 
ing. They  were  accustomed  to  depend  on  Pattie  or 
her  organ  and  their  own  throats  were  tight  with 
tears.  The  unmusical  young  preacher  was  helpless 
and  looked  from  one  to  another,  then  was  about  to 
raise  his  hands  for  the  benediction,  when  a  little 
voice  came  across  the  grave. 

"Ain't  nobody  going  to  sing  for  Mis'  Bostick?" 
wailed  Eliza,  as  her  head  went  down  on  the  Deacon's 
arm  in  a  shudder  of  sobs. 

Then  suddenly  a  very  wonderful  and  beautiful 
thing  happened  in  that  old  churchyard  of  Providence 
Meeting-house  under  Harpeth  Hills,  for  the  great 
singer  lady  stepped  toward  the  Deacon  a  little  way, 

257 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

paused,  looked  across  at  the  old  Nob  in  the  sun- 
light, and  high  and  clear  and  free-winged  like  that 
of  an  archangel,  rose  her  glorious  voice  in  the 

"Hail,  holy,  holy,  holy  Lord," 

which  she  had  set  for  him  and  the  gentle  invalid  to 
the  wonderful  motif  of  the  Song  of  the  Master's 
Grail.  Love  and  sorrow  and  a  flood  of  tears  had 
relieved  a  pressure  somewhere,  the  balance  had  been 
recovered  and  her  muted  voice  freed.  And  on 
through  the  verses  to  the  very  end  she  sang  it,  while 
the  little  group  of  field  people  held  their  breath  in 
awe  and  amazement.  Then,  while  they  all  stood 
with  bowed  heads  for  the  benediction,  she  turned 
and  walked  away  through  the  graves,  out  of  the 
churchyard  and  on  up  Providence  Road,  with  an 
instinct  to  hide  from  them  all  for  a  moment  of 
realization. 

"And  here  I  have  to  come  and  hunt  the  little 
skeered  miracle  out  of  my  own  feather  pillows,"  ex- 
claimed Mother  Mayberry  a  little  later  with  laughter, 
tears,  pride  and  joy  in  her  voice,  as  she  bent  over 
the  broad  expanse  of  her  own  bed  and  drew  the 

258 


SONG   OF   THE    MASTER'S    GRAIL 

singer  girl  up  in  her  strong  arms.  "Daughter,"  she 
said,  with  her  cheek  pressed  to  the  flushed  one 
against  her  shoulder,  "what  the  Lord  hath  given  and 
taketh  away  we  bless  Him  for  and  none  the  less 
what  He  giveth  back,  blessed  be  His  name.  That's 
a  jumble,  but  He  understands  me.  You  don't  feel 
in  no  ways  peculiar,  do  you?"  and  as  she  asked  the 
question  the  Doctor's  mother  clasped  the  slender 
throat  in  one  of  her  strong  hands. 

"Not  a  bit  anywhere,"  answered  Miss  Wingate, 
with  the  burr  all  gone  from  her  soft  voice.  "Is  it 
true?" 

"Dearie  me,  I  can't  hardly  stand  it  to  hear  you 
speak,  it  are  so  sweet !"  exclaimed  Mother  Mayberry 
in  positive  rapture  and  again  the  tears  filled  her  eyes, 
while  her  face  crinkled  up  into  a  dimpled  smile. 
"Don't  say  nothing  where  the  mocking-birds  will 
hear  you,  please,  'cause  they'll  begin  to  hatch  out  a 
dumb  race  from  plumb  discouragement.  Come  out 
on  the  porch  where  it  ain't  so  hot,  but  I'm  a-holding 
on  to  you  to  keep  you  from  flying  up  into  one  of 
the  trees.  I'm  a-going  to  set  about  building  a  cage 
for  you  right — " 

259 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

"Now,  didn't  I  tell  you  about  that  slippery-ellum !" 
came  in  a  positively  triumphant  voice  to  greet  them 
as  they  stepped  out  of  the  front  door.  Mrs.  Peavey 
was  ascending  the  steps  all  out  of  breath,  her  decor- 
ous hat  awry,  and  her  eyes  snapping  with  excite- 
ment. "Course  I  don't  think  this  can  be  no  positive 
cure  and  like  as  not  you'll  wake  up  to-morrow  with 
your  voice  all  gone  dry  again,  but  it  were  the  slip- 
pery-ellum that  done  it !" 

"I  think  it  must  have  helped  some,"  answered  the 
singer  lady  in  the  clear  voice  that  still  held  its 
wonted  note  of  meekness  to  her  neighbor. 

"Course  it  did!  Tom  Mayberry's  experimenting 
couldn'ter  done  it  no  real  good.  His  mother  have 
been  giving  that  biled  bark  for  sore  throat  for  thirty 
years  and  it  was  me  that  remembered  it.  But  it 
were  a  pity  you  done  it  at  the  grave ;  that  were  Mis' 
Bostick's  funeral  and  not  your'n.  Now  look  at 
everybody  a-coming  up  the  Road  with  no  grieving 
left  at  all." 

"Oh,  Hettie  Ann,"  exclaimed  Mother  Mayberry 
in  quick  distress,  "it  are  a  mean  kind  of  sorrow  that 

260 


SONG   OF    THE    MASTER'S    GRAIL 

can't  open  its  arms  to  hold  joy  tender.    Think  what 
it  do  mean  to  the  child  and —  Look  at  Bettie !" 

And  indeed  it  was  a  sight  to  behold  the  pretty 
mother  of  the  seventeen  sailing  up  the  front  walk 
like  a  great  full-rigged  ship.  Miss  Wingate  flew 
down  the  steps  to  meet  her  and  in  a  few  seconds  was 
enveloped  and  involved  with  little  Hoover  in  an  em- 
brace that  threatened  to  be  disastrous  to  all  con- 
cerned. Judy  Pike  was  close  behind  and,  making 
a  grab  on  her  own  part,  stood  holding  the  end  of 
the  singer  lady's  sash  in  her  one  hand  while  Teether, 
from  her  other  arm,  caught  at  the  bright  ribbons  and 
squealed  with  delight.  The  abashed  Pattie  hung 
over  the  front  gate  and  Buck  grinned  in  the  rear. 

"Lawsy  me,  child,"  Mrs.  Hoover  laughed  and 
sobbed  as  she  patted  the  singer  lady  on  the  back, 
little  Hoover  anywhere  he  came  upmost  and  included 
Teether  and  Judy  also  in  the  demonstration,  "I  feel 
like  it  would  take  two  to  hold  me  down !  You  sure ' 
sing  with  as  much  style  as  you  dress !  And  to  think 
such  a  thing  have  happened  to  all  of  us  here  in 
Providence.  We  won't  never  need  that  phonygraph 

261 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

we  all  are  a-hankering  after  now.  Speak  up  to  the 
child,  Judy  Pike!" 

"I  don't  need  to,"  answered  the  more  self-con- 
tained Sister  Pike,  "she  knows  how  I'm  a-rejoicing 
for  her.  Just  look  at  Mr.  Hoover  and  Ez  Pike  a- 
grinning  acrost  the  street  at  her  and  here  do  come 
the  Squire  and  Mis'  Tutt  walking  along  together  for 
the  first  time  I  almost  ever  seed  'em." 

"Wheeuh,"  wheezed  the  Squire,  "I  done  come  up 
here  to  give  up  on  the  subject  of  that  Tom 
Mayberry!  He  don't  look  or  talk  like  he  have  got 
any  sense,  girl,  but  he  are  the  greatest  doctor  any- 
where from  Harpeth  Hills  to  Californy  or  Alasky. 
He  have  got  good  remedies  for  all.  I  reckon  you  are 
one  of  the  hot  water  kind,  but  he  can  give  bitters 
too.  You'd  better  keep  him  to  the  bitters  though  for 
safety." 

"There  now!  You  all  have  done  heard  the  top 
testimony  for  Tom  Mayberry,"  exclaimed  Mother, 
fairly  running  over  with  joy. 

"Glory!"  was  the  one  word  that  rose  to  the  sur- 
face of  Mrs.  Tutt's  emotions,  but  it  expressed  her 
state  of  beatitude  and  caused  the  Squire  to  peer  at 

262 


SONG   OF   THE   MASTER'S    GRAIL 

her  with  uneasiness  as  if  expecting  an  outburst  of 
exhortation  on  the  next  breath.  Mrs.  Peavey's  ex- 
perienced eye  also  caught  the  threatened  downpour 
and  she  hastened  to  admonish  the  group  of  women. 

"Sakes,  you  all!"  she  exclaimed,  untying  the 
strings  of  her  bonnet  energetically,  "they  won't  be  a 
supper  cooked  on  the  Road  if  we  don't  go  get  about 
it.  A  snack  dinner  were  give  the  men  and  such  al- 
ways calls  for  the  putting  on  of  the  big  pot  and  the 
little  kettle  for  supper.  Miss  Elinory  will  be  here  for 
you  all  to  eat  up  to-morrow  morning,  'lessen  some- 
thing happens  to  her  in  the  night,  like  a  wind  storm. 
Go  on  everybody !" 

"Oh,"  exclaimed  Mother  Mayberry,  as  she  stood 
on  the  top  step  looking  down  at  them  all,  "look  how 
the  sun  have  come  out  on  us  all,  with  its  happiness 
after  the  sorrow  we  have  known  this  day.  I  thank 
you,  one  and  all,  for  your  feeling  with  me  and  my 
daughter  Elinory.  The  rejoicing  of  friends  are  a 
soft  wind  to  folks'  spirit  wings  and  we're  all  flying 
high  this  night.  Get  the  children  bedded  down  early, 
for  they  have  had  a  long  day  and  need  good  sleep. 
Bettie,  let  Mis'  Tutt  walk  along  with  you  and  the 

263 


Squire  can  come  on  slow.  Don't  nobody  forget 
that  it  are  Sewing  Circle  with  Mis'  Mosbey  to-mor- 
row." 

And,  with  more  congratulations  to  the  singer  lady, 
laughs  with  Mother  Mayberry,  and  the  return  of 
a  shot  or  two  with  Mrs.  Peavey,  the  happy  country 
women  dispersed  to  their  own  roof  trees.  The  sor- 
row that  had  come  they  had  endured  for  the  night 
and  now  they  were  ready  to  rise  up  and  meet  joy  for 
the  morning.  In  the  children  of  nature  the  emo- 
tions maintain  their  elemental  balance  and  their  sense 
of  the  proportions  of  life  is  instinctively  true. 

"Look,  honey-bird,  who's  coming!"  said  Mother 
Mayberry,  just  as  she  was  turning  to  seat  herself  in 
her  rocking-chair,  tired  out  as  she  was  with  the 
strain  of  the  long  day.  "Run,  meet  'em  at  the  gate!" 

And  up  Providence  Road  came  the  old  Deacon  and 
Eliza  hand  in  hand,  with  Martin  Luther  trailing 
wearily  behind  them.  When  she  saw  Miss  Wingate 
at  the  gate,  Eliza,  for  the  first  time  during  the  day, 
loosed  her  hold  on  her  old  charge  and  darted  for- 
ward to  hide  her  head  on  the  singer  lady's  breast  as 
her  thin  little  arms  clasped  around  her  convulsively. 

264 


SONG   OF   THE   MASTER'S    GRAIL 

"Now,"  she  wailed,  "Mis'  Bostick  are  dead  and 
you'll  be  gone^  away  too.  Can't  you  stay  a  little 
while,  till  we  can  stand  to  let  you  go  ?  Poor  Doctor 
Tom !  Please,  oh,  please !" 

"Darling,  darling,  I'm  never  going  to  leave  you !" 
exclaimed  Miss  Wingate,  as  she  hugged  the  small 
implorer  as  closely  as  possible  and  held  out  one  hand 
to  the  Deacon  as  he  came  up  beside  them.  "I'm  go- 
ing to  stay  and  sing  for  you  and  the  Deacon  when- 
ever you  want  me — if  it  will  help !" 

"Child,"  said  the  old  patriarch,  with  an  ineffable 
sweetness  shining  from  his  sad  old  face,  "out  of  my 
affliction  I  come  to  add  my  blessing  to  what  the  Lord 
has  given  to  you  this  day.  And  I  take  this  mercy  as 
a  special  dispensation  to  me  and  to  her,  as  it  came 
when  you  were  performing  one  of  His  offices  for  us. 
No  sweeter  strain  could  come  from  the  Choir  In- 
visible that  she  hears  this  night,  and  if  she  knows 
she  rejoices  that  it  will  be  given  at  other  times  to 
me,  to  feed  my  lonely  soul." 

"The  songs  are  yours  when  you  want  them,  Dea- 
con," said  the  singer  girl  in  her  sweet  low  voice  as 
she  held  his  hand  in  hers  gently. 

265 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

"And  it  are  true  what  the  Deacon  says,  they  ain't 
no  help  like  music,"  said  Mother  Mayberry  who  had 
come  down  the  walk  and  stood  leaning  against  the 
gate  near  them.  "A  song  can  tote  comfort  from 
heart  to  heart  when  words  wouldn't  have  no  mean- 
ing. It's  a  high  calling,  child,  and  have  to  be  an- 
swered with  a  high  life." 

"I  know  Pattie  and  Buck  and  Aunt  Prissy  will  let 
you  always  sing  in  the  choir  if  Deacon  asks  'em," 
said  Eliza  in  a  practical  voice  as  she  again  took  hold 
of  the  Deacon's  hand,  "and  Mr.  Petway  are  a-going 
to  buy  a  piano  for  Aunt  Prissy  when  they  get  mar- 
ried and  sometimes  you  can  sing  by  it  if  Doctor  Tom 
can't  save  up  enough  to  get  you  one.  But  I  want 
Deacon  to  come  home  now,  'cause  he  are  tired."  And 
without  more  ado  she  departed  with  her  docile 
charge,  leaving  the  tired  Martin  Luther  with  his 
hands  clasped  in  Mother  Mayberry's. 

"Mother,"  faltered  Miss  Wingate  as  she  and 
Mother  Mayberry  were  slowly  ascending  the  steps, 
assisting  the  almost  paralyzed  young  missionary  to 
mount  between  them,  "where  do  you  suppose — he 
is?"  For  some  minutes  back  the  singer  lady  had 

266 


SONG   OF   THE   MASTER'S    GRAIL 

been  growing  pale  at  the  realization  that  the  Doctor 
had  not  come  to  her  since  she  had  left  his  side  in  the 
churchyard  and  her  eyes  were  beginning  to  show  a 
deep  hurt  within. 

"I  don't  know,  Elinory,  and  I've  been  a-wonder- 
ing,"  answered  Mother  Mayberry  as  she  sank  down 
on  the  top  step  and  took  the  tired  child  in  her  arms. 

"Oh,"  said  Miss  Wingate  as  she  stood  before  her 
on  the  lower  step  and  clasped  her  white  hands 
against  her  breast,  "do  you  suppose  he  is  going  to — 
to  hurt  me  now  ?" 

"Child,"  answered  the  Doctor's  mother  quietly, 
with  a  quick  sadness  spreading  over  her  usually 
bright  face,  "they  ain't  nothing  in  the  world  that  can 
be  as  cruel  as  true  love  when  it  goes  blind.  Tom 
Mayberry  is  a  good  man  and  I  borned,  nursed  and 
raised  him,  but  I  won't  answer  for  him  about  no 
co'ting  conniptions.  A  man  lover  are  a  shy  bird 
and  they  can't  nothing  but  a  true  mate  keep  him 
steady  on  any  limb.  You  ain't  showed  a  single 
symptom  of  managing  Tom  yet,  but  somehow  I've 
got  confidence  in  you  if  you  just  keep  your  head 
now." 

267 


THE   ROAD   TO    PROVIDENCE 

"But  what  can  the  matter  be?"  demanded  Miss 
Wingate  in  a  voice  that  shook  with  positive  terror. 

"Well,"  answered  Mother  Mayberry  slowly,  "I 
sorter  sense  the  trouble  and  I'll  tell  you  right  out  and 
out  for  your  good.  Loving  a  woman  are  a  kinder 
regeneration  process  for  any  man,  and  a  good  one 
like  as  not  comes  outen  it  humbler  than  a  bad  most 
times.  Tom  have  wrapped  you  around  with  some 
sorter  pink  cloud  of  sentiments,  tagged  you  with 
all  them  bokays  the  world  have  give  you  for  singing 
so  grand,  turned  all  them  lights  on  you  he  first  seen 
you  acrost  and  now  he's  afraid  to  come  nigh  you.  I 
suspect  him  of  a  bad  case  of  chicken-heart  and  I'm 
a-pitying  of  him  most  deep.  He's  just  lying  down 
at  your  feet  waiting  to  be  picked  up." 

"I  wonder  where  he  is !"  exclaimed  Miss  Wingate 
as  a  light  flashed  into  her  eyes  and  a  trace  of  color 
came  back  to  her  cheeks. 

"You'll  find  him,"  answered  the  Doctor's  mother 
comfortably,  "and  when  you  do  I  want  you  to  prom- 
ise me  to  put  him  through  a  good  course  of  sprouts. 
A  wife  oughtn't  to  stand  on  no  pedestal  for  a  man, 
but  she  have  got  no  call  to  make  squaw  tracks  behind 

268 


SONG   OF   THE   MASTER'S    GRAIL 

him  neither.  Go  on  and  find  him !  A  woman  have 
got  to  come  out  of  the  pink  cloud  to  her  husband 
some  time,  but  she'd  better  keep  a  bit  to  flirt  behind 
the  rest  of  her  life.  Look  in  the  office !" 

"Well,  Martin  Luther,"  remarked  Mother  a  few 
minutes  later,  as  she  lifted  the  absolutely  dead 
youngster  in  her  arms  and  rose  to  take  him  into 
the  house,  "life  are  all  alike  from  Harpeth  Hills 
to  Galilee.  A  woman  can  shape  up  her  dough 
any  fancy  way  she  wants  and  it's  likely  to  come 
outen  the  oven  a  husband.  All  Elinory's  fine  songs 
are  about  to  end  in  little  chorus  cheeps  with  Tom 
under  Mother  Mayberry's  wings,  the  Lord  be 
praised !" 

And  over  in  the  office  wing  the  situation  was 
about  as  Mother  Mayberry's  experienced  intuitions 
had  predicted.  Miss  Wingate  found  the  young 
Doctor  sitting  in  the  deep  window  and  looking  out 
at  Providence  Nob,  which  the  last  rays  of  the  sun 
were  dying  blood  red,  with  his  strong  young  face 
set  and  white.  The  battle  was  still  on  and  his  soul 
was  up  in  arms. 

"Where  have  you  been?"  she  asked  quietly  as  she 
269 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

came  and  stood  against  the  other  side  of  the  case- 
ment. The  pain  in  his  gray  eyes  set  her  heart  to 
throbbing,  but  she  had  herself  well  in  hand. 

"When  I  came  up  the  Road  the  others  were  all 
here  and  I  waited  to  see  you  until  they  were  gone," 
he  answered  her,  just  as  quietly  and  in  just  as  con- 
trolled a  voice  and  with  possibly  just  as  wild  a 
throb  in  his  heart.  "I  have  been  writing  to  Doctor 
Stein  and  there  are  the  Press  bulletins,  subject  to 
your  approval."  He  pointed  to  some  letters  on  the 
table  which  she  never  deigned  to  notice.  She  had 
drawn  herself  to  her  slim  young  height  and  looked 
him  full  in  the  face  with  a  beautiful  stateliness  in 
her  manner  and  glance.  Her  dark  eyes  never  left 
his  and  she  seemed  waiting  for  him  to  say  something 
further  to  her. 

"You  know  without  my  telling  you  how  very  glad 
I  am  for  you,"  he  said  gently  and  his  hand  trembled 
on  the  window  ledge. 

"Are  you?"  she  asked  in  a  low  tone,  still  with 
her  eyes  fixed  on  his  face,  but  her  lips  pressed  close 
with  a  sharp  intake  of  breath. 

"Yes,"  he  answered  quickly,  and  this  time  the 
270 


SONG   OF    THE   MASTER'S    GRAIL 

note  of  pain  would  sound  clearly  in  his  voice.  "Yes, 
no  matter  what  it  means  to  me !" 

The  pain  of  it,  the  haggard  gray  eyes,  the  firm 
young  mouth  and  the  droop  of  the  broad  shoulders 
were  too  much  for  the  singer  girl  and  she  smiled 
shakily  as  she  held  out  her  arms. 

"Tom  Mayberry,"  she  pleaded  with  a  little  laugh, 
"please,  please  don't  treat  me  this  way.  I  prom- 
ised your  mother  to  be  stern  with  you  but — I  can't ! 
Don't  you  see  that  it  can  only  mean  to  me  what  it 
means  to  your  happiness — if — do  you,  could  you 
possibly  think  it  would  make  any  difference  to  me? 
Do  you  suppose  for  all  the  wide  world  I  would 
throw  away  what  I  have  found  here  in  Providence 
Under  Harpeth  Hills — my  Mother  and  you?  Ah, 
Torn,  I'll  be  good,  I'll  go  to  Italy  and  India  with 
you!  I'll — I'll  'do  for'  you  just  the  best  I  can!" 

"But,  dear,  it  isn't  right  at  all,"  whispered  the 
young  Doctor  to  the  back  of  the  singer  lady's  head, 
as  he  laid  his  cheek  against  the  dark  braids.  "Your 
voice  belongs  to  the  world — there  must  be  no  giving 
it  up.  I  can't  let  you — I — " 

"Listen,"  said  the  singer  girl  as  she  raised  her 
271 


head  and  looked  up  into  his  face.  "For  all  your 
life  you  will  have  to  go  where  pain  and  grief  call 
you,  won't  you  ?  Can't  you  take  my  voice  with  you 
and  use  it — as  one  of  your — remedies?  Your 
Mother  says  songs  can  comfort  where  words  fail; 
let  me  go  with  you !  Your  father  brought  her  and 
her  herb  basket  to  Providence,  won't  you  take  me 
and  my  songs  out  into  the  world  wit^i  you  ?  Don't 
send  me  back  to  sing  in  the  dreadful  crowded  thea- 
ters to  people  who  pay"  to  hear  me.  Let  me  give  it 
all  my  lifelong,  as  she  has  given  herself  here  in 
Providence.  Please,  Tom,  please!"  And  again  she 
buried  her  head  against  his  coat. 

And  as  was  his  wont,  the  silent  young  doctor 
failed  to  answer  a  single  word  but  just  held  her 
close  and  comforted.  And  how  long  he  would  have 
held  her,  there  is  no  way  to  know,  because  the  strain 
had  been  too  great  on  Mother  Mayberry  and  in  a 
few  minutes  she  stood  calmly  in  the  door  and 
i  looked  at  the  pair  of  children  with  happy  but  quiz- 
zical eyes. 

"It's  just  as  well  you  got  Tom  Mayberry 
straightened  out  quick,  Elinory,"  she  remarked  in 

272 


SONG   OF   THE   MASTER'S   GRAIL 

her  most  jovial  tone.  "I've  been  getting  madder 
and  madder  as  I  put  Martin  Luther  to  bed  and 
though  I  ain't  never  had  to  whip  him  yet,  I'd  just 
about  made  up  my  mind  to  ask  him  out  in  the  barn 
and  dress  him  down  for  onct.  Now  are  you  well 
over  your  tantrum,  sir?"  she  demanded  as  she  eyed 
the  shamefaced  young  Doctor  delightedly. 

"Mother!"  he  exclaimed  as  he  turned  his  head 
away  and  the  color  rose  under  his  tan. 

"Have  you  done  made  up  your  mind  to  travel 
from  town  to  town  with  Elinory  and  take  in  the 
tickets  at  the  door  and  make  yourself  useful  to  her 
the  rest  of  your  life?  Are  you  a-going  to  follow 
her  peaceable  all  over  Europe,  Asia  and  Africa?" 
And  her  eyes  fairly  over-danced  themselves  with 
delight. 

"Mother!"  and  this  time  the  exclamation  came 
from  Miss  Wingate  as  she  came  over  to  rest  her 
cheek  against  Mother  Mayberry's  arm.  She  also 
blushed,  but  her  eyes  danced  with  an  echo  of  the 
young  Doctor's  mother's  laugh  as  she  beheld  his 
embarrassment. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  Doctor,  rallying  at  last, 
273 


THE   ROAD  TO   PROVIDENCE 

"yes,  I'm  ready  to  go  with  her.  Will  you  go  too, 
Mother,  as  retained  physician  ?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know  about  that,"  answered  his 
Mother  with  a  laugh;  "not  till  'Liza  Pike  have 
growed  up  to  take  my  place  here.  But  I'm  mighty 
glad  to  see  you  take  your  dose  of  humble  pie  so  nice, 
Tom,  and  I  reckon  I'll  have  to  tell  you  how  happy 
I  am  about  my  child  here.  It  was  kinder  smart  of 
you  to  cure  her  and  then  claim  her  sweet  self  as  a 
fee,  wasn't  it?" 

"I  do  feel  that  way,  Mother,  and  I  don't  see  how 
I  can  let  her  make  the  sacrifice.  Her  future  is  so 
brilliant  and  I — I — " 

"Son,"  said  Mother  Mayberry  with  the  banter  all 
gone  from  her  rich  voice  and  the  love  fairly  radiat- 
ing from  her  face  as  she  laid  a  tender  hand  on  the 
singer  lady's  dark  head  on  her  shoulder,  "I  don't 
have  to  ask  my  honey-bird  the  choice  she  have  made. 
A  woman  don't  want  to  wear  her  life-work  like  no 
jewelry  harness  nor  yet  no  sacrificial  garment,  but 
she  loves  to  clothe  herself  in  it  like  it  were  a  soft- 
colored,  homespun  dress  to  cover  the  pillow  of  her 
breast  and  the  cradle  of  her  arms  to  hold  the  tired 

274 


SONG   OF   THE   MASTER'S    GRAIL 

folks  against.  Take  her  to  India's  coral  strand  if 
you  must,  for  it's  gave  a  wife  to  follow  the  hus- 
band-star. Long  ago  I  vowed  you  to  the  Master's 
high  call  and  now  with  these  words  I  dedicates  my 
daughter  the  same.  She  have  waded  through  much 
pain  and  sorrow,  but  do  it  matter  along  how  hard  a 
Road  folks  travels  if  at  last  they  come  to  they 
Providence  ?" 


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i 


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